Scratch

(This is a long enough blog post to warrant it's own topic, in my opinion)

Davidr64 is a blogger, who has played and commentated Minecraft since Alpha, talks about why there is fear in Minecraft, the psychology of Herobrine, and why we are afraid while playing.

Davidr64 wrote:

Minecraft and Fear

I think.  I think a lot.  I think deeply.  I’m a thinker.

In my mind swirls a sea of subjects, and frequently my mind’s eye will gaze upon one of these subjects and study it intensely, forming theories and conclusions and always raising more questions.  Sometimes I can control which subject becomes my target, and sometimes I cannot.

Often, that subject is Minecraft.  And no, it’s not because Minecraft is “what made me popular” or because people, for the better part of two years now, have kept asking me for it.

It’s because Minecraft is, itself, a subject to ponder.  I don’t think the average Minecraft player has even the slightest clue of just how much there is to Minecraft.

And I’m not talking about how many recipes are in the game, or how many monsters there are, or how many (now countless) mods there are for it, or how many people play it.  These things are the obvious.

Today, a topic I found myself contemplating was how truly scary Minecraft really is.

First, I will discuss the biggest topic that comes to mind when you pair the words “Minecraft” and “scary” in your head.  I am of course, referring to Herobrine, or, as I prefer to call him, “HIM.”

Man.  Even just reading the word “HIM” is scarier than reading the word “Herobrine.”

But for the purposes of this blog post I will freely interchange the terms for the sake ease-of-reading.

Why Herobine “Works”

So why is Herobrine so scary?  Or, should I say… why WAS he scary?  Because let’s face it: the name Herobrine strikes fear into the hearts of practically no long-standing Minecraft player these days.  (The tragedy of Herobrine is something I also wish to discuss, later in this blog post.)

But there was a time when Herobrine was frightening to just about everyone, especially when he was known only as “HIM.”  He originated on the Brocraft stream as a very clever prank that escalated into what I would call an outright social experiment.  At that point, though, it was out of Brocraft’s control, and very much in the hands of the community.

When “HIM” was first conceptualized, Minecraft was a very different game from what it is today.  Minecraft was in its Alpha stage, and still had a very long way to go.  The game was filled with potential and could become anything.  So again: why WAS Herobrine so scary?  It’s because of what he represents. 

The Fears of Minecraft

Minecraft Alpha was simple; very basic in its design.  But in its simplicity, it accomplished an unfathomable amount.  There was one key aspect of the game that was readily apparent, or made itself apparent soon enough: the dark, is bad.

There was no brightness slider in Minecraft Alpha.  When the sun set, things became dark, indeed, wicked… the world you were wandering which was only minutes ago bright and filled with friendly animals was now shrouded in blackness.  No longer were you paying attention to the far-off hills, daydreaming about what might be just ahead.  Now, the darkness had closed in around you, turning that wide-open world into a small area of your immediate surroundings, to which you became intimately aware.

The sounds of animal footsteps were just a natural sound during the day.  But when you heard that signature crinkle of grass or dirt nearby, and you couldn’t see what it actually was, your mind was jolted into thought, wondering what it could have been.  Your next reaction was probably to stand still, and wait, quietly, hoping to hear a “moo” or an “oink” or a “baaaah.”  When you DID hear that sound, you were relieved slightly… but what happened to you when you DIDN’T hear that sound?

If it was your first time playing, you most likely instead heard the clink-clank of a skeletons bones, or worse, the tortured moan of a zombie.  In Minecraft Alpha, for a new player, these sounds were terrifying themselves, but there was still something else you did not want to hear after a nearby footstep:

Silence.

When you heard a footstep, and then another, and yet another, but no sound to identify what it actually was that was so close to you in the pitch black, your mind would again jolt into thought, and for you, time could not pass fast enough for the sun to rise again.

These days, we salty dogs, the long-standing Minecraft players, know that in stock Minecraft, a creature making footsteps without making any other sound is just another creeper looking to mess up our buildings.  But for a new player, back in the Alpha days, the silence after a footstep was eerie, and the discovery of a creeper was an exciting—and deadly—way to find your closure.

So, what does all this have to do with Herobrine?, you may be wondering.

Well, calm down.  I’m getting there.  First, let me talk more about how Minecraft invades your mind the way you love it to do so.

Beyond the Obvious

So, in Minecraft Alpha, the monsters were, naturally, the first and most readily apparent form of fear.  But after some time, you learn what they are, how they function, what they sound like, how to defend against them, and how to kill them. In fact, at some point, you no longer fear them, but wish to confront them, and claim their rewards!  The monsters turn from the deadly creatures they once were into a valued source of necessary resources, like arrows, feathers, and string.  (And yes, in Minecraft Alpha, zombies dropped feathers.  I wish they still did.)  The hunters had then become the hunted.  And for a while, hunting them was exciting. There was still an element of fear in seeking them out, because you had to venture into dark places or wander out at night, but with sword in hand and armor draped over you, the confrontation was exhilarating and rewarding.

Here is a key point, and I want you to remember it for the rest of this blog post:

Overcoming your fear had led you to great rewards.

But, for you, there was another fear in Minecraft that was just waiting for you to reach this point… It is a fear beyond the obvious, it is the worst fear of all, and it had been watching you literally every step of the way.

I’m not referring to Herobrine, or “HIM.”  I’m referring, as I said earlier, to what Herobrine represents.

Herobrine Represents You.  You are your fear.

Herobrine, “HIM,” represents the one element in Minecraft that, in my mind, was one of the most important elements Minecraft Alpha had going for it.

You see, Herobrine represents you, and your desire for there be something more.

Let me ask you this: have you ever been wandering around in a dark cave, and you ran out of torches, so you turned back?  Why did you turn back?  Did you do it because without those torches you could not see, or did you do it because you didn’t want to feel alone, and afraid in the dark?

How much of you carries torches around because they prevent the game from spawning monsters (a technical, in-game reason), and how much of you carries torches around because they represent safety (a very human reason)?

If you’re a long-standing Minecraft player, probably 90% of you carries them for the first reason, and probably 10% of you for the second reason.  But think back to your early Minecraft days.  What did the balance look like then?  10/90?  20/80?  0/100?

That fear of the unknown compelled you to play safe, and you didn’t want to feel afraid.

Here’s a common scenario, tell me if this has ever happened to you: You’re wandering in a twisting, winding cavern, moving deeper and deeper into the earth. Suddenly, you break through a wall, or you drop down a bit into an open area, and you see one of the absolutely most terrifying things you’ve ever seen in Minecraft:

You see torches that are NOT your own.  And you’re playing Minecraft Alpha.  There IS no multiplayer component to the game.  You are truly alone in this world, the only living, breathing thing here.  But there they are.  Lit torches along the wall or floor.

Your mind jolts, once again, into frenzied thought.  Are these my torches?  Who placed them here?  Holy * I’m down here with someone or something else.  Am I in danger?  I’ve never heard of this before, is this part of the game, or…????  SHOULD I LOG OUT?  SHOULD I FOLLOW THESE TORCHES?

And then, just like everyone else who has experienced this scenario, something happens that snaps you out of it.  Either you are really brave and you follow the torches, or you think more carefully about the situation, or something else happens that makes you realize, “Wait a second.  These ARE my torches!”

Your fear is abolished, and you are relieved.  Maybe you even feel a little silly, laughing at yourself a little bit as you make your way back to your shelter.

But that fear inside you when you were confused, the thought that you might not ACTUALLY be alone here, was utterly, coldly gripping, and at the same time, intensely exciting.

Even after that moment when you realized the torches were yours, and the world shifted back into proper perspective, a tiny part of you still wondered if you truly were alone in that Minecraft Alpha world of yours.

Herobrine Represents Us.  We are our fear.

But there is still MORE to all this than simply the individual.  Herobrine could not exist if it weren’t for the Minecraft community as a whole.

You see, Minecraft has ALWAYS been a multiplayer game.  Even in Alpha, I used to say, “Minecraft is a multiplayer game without a multiplayer component.”

And it’s true. Minecraft played solo is no fun.  It’s the kind of game that makes you want to share your experiences in it—in fact, in my opinion, it’s the BEST game of that kind.

This is why I created X’s Adventures in Minecraft in the first place.  Minecraft Alpha was a single player game, but without built-in multiplayer, I had to find a way to MAKE the game multiplayer.  It just so happened I already had a few thousand subscribers on YouTube, and thus, I turned Minecraft, for me, into a multiplayer game by bringing others along for the ride.

And as a community, we have always craved “more, more, more” from Minecraft, haven’t we?  Back in the Alpha days, we wanted more building blocks, more monsters, more adventure, more game modes, more options, more multiplayer aspects, more biomes, more mods, more videos, more MORE MORE!

It is this communal desire for “more” that created Herobrine.  Individually, as we played Minecraft, the game would periodically give us glimpses, hints of something that we should fear.  The darkness always held the threat of something unexpected, even if we knew it was unlikely or even impossible for that “something” to exist.

When the story of “HIM” manifested, we as a community swarmed and clung to it.  The very idea that there was a “ghost in the machine” was enticing, terrifying, and exciting all at once.  Herobrine, although for a time he didn’t have that name, was instantly a success.

The varying degrees to which the story of “HIM” impacted each of us created a violently choppy tide of responses.  Some people discounted it and brushed it off legitimately.  Some people did so simply because they were afraid.  Others, like me, may have jumped into the game HOPING to run into “HIM,” for the thrill of sheer terror and facing a foe that is supposedly, in every way, a game changer.  And some still even stated that they would quit playing Minecraft until there was an official word on the ghost.

More stories popped up, one or two of which were good while the vast majority were terrible and obvious attempts to fan the flames.  But no matter how you look at it, it was a fear generated by us, as a community, and it was a fear that was born of a desire:

More.  Give.  Us.  More.

The Tragedy of Herobrine

And this is tragic.  You see, dear reader, the sensation that Herobrine brought to Minecraft is born of our desire for there to be something greater in the game.  Some secret, some aspect, some… some-ANYTHING that makes the game more than what it actually is.

Maybe we liked Herobrine because he added some purpose to an otherwise no-purpose game.  When we had just become unafraid of the dark, he infused it with a greater terror than we had yet known in the game.  Even our own homes weren’t safe.

Herobrine is the ultimate representation of what Minecraft MIGHT have been, but unfortunately cannot ever achieve.  Herobrine truly is a ghost in the machine; it is impossible to make him real.

When I say “real,” I’m not talking about adding Herobrine to the game or using a mod that makes him appear.

When I say “real,” I mean exactly that: real.  He’s a paradox.  He IS real, you see. The IDEA of him is real.  The sensation surrounding him is real.  All the countless posts, pictures, stories, and mods of him are real.

But the definition of Herobrine is this: “A frightening ghost in Minecraft that can appear, act intelligently and of his own volition, and exist in your Minecraft world despite having not been programmed into the game.”

And as we all know (mods aside), if it’s not in the code, it’s not in the game, and it’s impossible for us to encounter something like that.

At least, I hope it is.

And yet, I also hope it isn’t.

Herobrine achieved celebrity status, eventually, as time has passed.  His existence as he was first made manifest has been officially debunked, the fear which surrounded him has dissipated, and now he serves as somewhat of a mascot for Minecraft, right alongside the creeper.

There are mods that add Herobrine to the game, and even Mojang themselves regularly poke at his status by adding joking comments about him in the game’s patch notes.

Nobody is afraid of Herobrine anymore.  The fear that he once brought is gone, and that is tragic.  With that fear depleted, and with real multiplayer now in the game, and with villagers, and kitties and doggies you can tame as pets, there is no longer that feeling of “alone,” and thus we come to the realization that the game really IS just a bunch of procedurally placed blocks, and the monsters really ARE that easy to kill, and there really is nothing beyond what we know of the game.

Please do not mistake this as a blog post about Herobrine.  See deeper.  It is a blog post about how scary Minecraft is, or was, and how that is a very good thing.

But that fear is gone.  Remember earlier I asked you to remember that one bold line up above?  ”Overcoming your fear has led you to great rewards.”  Unfortunately, that is not the case here.  We did not “overcome” the fear of Minecraft… it dulled on its own, and eventually faded away.  Without overcoming it ourselves, we have not been left with a reward, but instead, a somewhat relieving sadness.

What We Have Gained

It dawns on me that this whole blog post has been about the exciting fear of Minecraft, and how many of us players-since-Alpha have lost it.  But this writing is mostly my thoughts on a single subject: how Minecraft uses fear to excite you and draw you in.  I have no aim or goal with this post except to share some of my thoughts.

I have no ill feelings toward Minecraft.  Some may think I am lamenting the loss of “the good old days,” and complaining about it, when really, I am not.  I am sharing with you folks just one part of my MANY thoughts on Minecraft, the same way I have shared my thoughts and experiences in YouTube videos.

Much of this post has been on a lower note, and some of it (I hope) has been thought-provoking, and maybe even nostalgic for some of you.

So I will end on a high note, and talk about what we have gained in place of that initial, new excitement.

The fear of night, monsters, and Herobrine could not last forever, after all.  Minecraft has much more going for it than just that terrifying excitement that comes with your first days playing it.  If we were all here just for that new excitement, we’d have all left a long time ago.

But we stuck around.  We stuck around because as we have been united in our early days as the community, either in multiplayer servers, in the forums, or by watching videos, we have formed bonds that keep us playing.  We have discovered that our desire for “more, more, MORE” can be satisfied easily, through the mods we see all over the place, and through Mojang’s continuing work to bring us big new updates like the upcoming Adventure Update (which I’m eagerly awaiting).

Even better is that Minecraft is game where we can choose our level of involvement, and for how long.  It isn’t like many multiplayer games where you feel like you NEED to play to “keep up” with the player base, either in ladder points, skill, gear, or just time invested.  Minecraft lets you play how you want, when you want.

I think it’s this freedom that we gain that replaces that initial excitement of fear.

As for Herobrine?  Well… though we have lost him as a terror, we have gained him as a character.  There are people with Herobrine skins for their character models, there are animations of him, and generally, just a fanbase surrounding him.

What’s Next?

One of the great things about Minecraft is that there are many new frontiers to explore regarding it.  Some of these frontiers are obvious.  But one of the themes in this blog post has been to look beyond the obvious, and that’s exactly what I intend.

I have some ideas for Minecraft that are ambitious (and I’m not just talking about my “achievements” videos).  But I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to them, and I don’t know if I’ll share them with you guys.  Some of them aren’t fully solidified as ideas yet.

One Fear Left Unaccounted For

After all is said and done, though, there is still one fear left unaccounted for… one of Minecraft’s singular, sickly dark arms whose hand has yet to release it’s grip.

This fear has no name… but I think you feel it, sometimes, when playing Minecraft, and you’re all alone.  We have overcome the fear of monsters, the fear of the dark, the fear of Herobrine, and a few others.

But somehow, for some reason, inside each of us as we play, no matter how long you’ve been playing Minecraft, you will occasionally STILL feel it.  The fear of the unknown is still there within us, within Minecraft, even after all this time.

Yes, it’s rare, and these days, it passes quickly.  But it’s there, isn’t it?  Why do you still feel this way, after all this time?  What is it that grips you, and makes you feel like it’s watching, or waiting… or both…?

I wouldn’t think too much about it if I were you.

Last edited by soupoftomato (2012-08-01 22:30:05)