I loved working as a game designer. Games in all forms captivated me, so it felt natural. Over my career, I've worked on around 150 titles, mainly mobile games both big and small. The best game designers test relentlessly—nothing beats watching people play. Goals that seem obvious to you as a designer often stump most players.
Fun is deeply subjective; it's mesmerizing to watch different players engage with different aspects. We each struggle to set aside our own biases, shaped by our experiences. Everyone starts with nothing in a game, so their experiences during play lead them along unique paths.
Humans love systems. We thrive on simple ones: collecting, uncovering, accumulating. When we think we understand a system, we push harder and deeper into it. Great games offer multiple interlocking systems that compound into progress. Players who grasp the value excel and advance rapidly. Life mirrors this—a vast set of interlocking systems where we chase value, often without realizing the rules are fluid.
Life is like a game, but there's no complete rulebook. Every "rule"—taxes, laws, social etiquette—has been invented by humans before us. We live in the consequences of their ideas and dreams; we call it culture. This isn't to dismiss rules; they're tools for order. But they're not etched in nature.
As social creatures, we're constantly playing games of power with those around us. As we grow up, our perceived performance in each game evolves differently.
I see three main ones, each rising in importance at different life stages:
Wealth
Status
Meaning
We're entered into them without choice. You can chose to opt out or emphasise one game over the other. Everyone is playing their own game, but each game shares some common features, that if you understand, could help you achieve more.
Wealth is an exponential game, where wealth creates more wealth. As you age, your skills, knowledge, and connections help generate more, accelerating it quickly.
Status is a stair-step game. We gather it in bursts, through who we know or what we do. It varies wildly per individual, but we tend to accumulate more over time as we become important to more people.
Meaning is a variable game. We value it most at life's decision points, such as the end of university, a mid-life crisis, or our deathbed.
Wealth: Playing Against the World
Wealth games pit you against the world. They're thrilling at first—money unlocks new abilities: a home, a car, novel experiences. We price them by rarity; the most exclusive cost more. Basic wealth covers survival, a tiny fraction of the system's total. But there's no upper limit. The cheat code? Compound interest—let money work for you.
In my game design days, I saw this parallel: early levels hook players with quick wins, but mastery demands long-term strategies. Similarly, once you hit a wealth threshold, more choices unlock. The difference between a multimillionaire's and billionaire's lifestyle? Marginal at best. They've already beaten the game and are now just playing for points. Wealth grants freedom, but creating it takes time and energy. Watch out for time traps—it's the scarcest resource!
Status: Playing With Others
Status games always involve others. Your work, family, community, or media can confer it. Each has a hierarchy. You can't buy status directly; it's bestowed by peers. Wealth attracts it, but true status comes from power, exclusivity, beauty, novelty, or talent.
Wealth attracts it, but true status comes from power, exclusivity, beauty, novelty, or talent.politicians shaping nations, celebrities captivating masses, inventors redefining possibilities. Their appeal lies in rarity. We crave high valuation from peers—it affirms us. But you don't need to top the hierarchy; high status can be intimately gifted. A spouse or close friend granting it feels profound and nourishing. Status scales with admirers—think Taylor Swift, adored by millions and gifted status by people she's never met. High status individuals often leave a legacy. Legacy can impact people, who never knew you, far into the future.
I've experienced this in design circles: hit games boosted peer appreciation. Yet some work I'm most proud of went unnoticed. Status often doesn't follow talent; it can be elusive and mysterious. Chasing it leads to misery, and lacking it can damage you—unless you have a strong sense of self-meaning.
Meaning: Playing For Yourself
Meaning is the toughest game—an internal solo match. Unlimited outcomes, and only you score the win. We chase achievements thinking they'll deliver it, yet post-victory, even our greatest ones can feel hollow. We inherently sense meaning—that alignment of purpose—but it shifts with time. Some is biologically driven: striving for connection, joy, family. The rest is personally driven: what matters to me? what matters to those around me? Often, meaning is most powerful in the simple act of doing, like chipping away at a daunting task to focus and improve ourselves.
The word "meaning" traces back to roots like "mind" and "intent." The Sanskrit word "artha (अर्थ)" approximates "aim" or "purpose" but has many translations. It serves as one of the four guiding principles of life alongside dharma (virtue/morality), kāma (pleasure/joy), and mokṣa (liberation/release). It's something ellusive and shifting but can always be aimed at.
In game design, we often keep the meaning simple: stripping external variables to focus on characters with clear goals, avoiding complexity. But life is complex. You can't shirk it, cheat, or steal someone else's meaning. This game has no shortcuts—just introspection. Awareness of oneself and committed time yield deeper satisfaction.
The Spiritual Dimension
Humanity's search for meaning often leads to philosophical and spiritual realms. Western religions highlight virtuous and noble paths as most meaningful. Eastern practices like Yoga and Buddhism set enlightenment as the goal but can't guide you all the way. In modern spiritual circles, progress comes from your journey. “The path" or "the work"—which are regular, committed practice’s focused on self-improvement or seeking guidance from “spirit” itself.
Ancient practices start with practical steps. The feelings, emotions, and difficulties you face are personal and tough. To overcome them, practice heart-centered focus. This inspired much of Manaprana, as I saw interlocking systems compounding along my journey. What challenged me was questioning whether "the work" was effective or meaningful?
Spiritual ideas are difficult; they counter materialist thinking. Enlightenment seems hardest, with few achieving it in a lifetime. Those who are furthest along the path have the deepest sense of peace and contentment, which drew me towards it.
Why Play at All?
You can sit out any game. I believe, nothing ultimately matters; you can choose freely—that's your ultimate power. However, why not try? You're in the theme park, the rollercoaster is running—surely it's fun to ride?
If you think of life playfully, recognize which game you're in, and try your best, perhaps you'll be rewarded. Becoming ultra-wealthy grants time and opportunity; reaching high status has perks; and finding true meaning is a game you ultimately choose to win for yourself. The prizes are grand, the path long. Playing sounds better than waiting at the end of the ride with regrets and a photo of your friends screaming!