Historical depth
Snobbery
Elegance of style
Allow me to begin with a question that might seem provocative: what do a medieval craft guild, an ancient agora, and your Friday evening at the gaming table have in common? And why does this question matter when we are choosing between another raid in World of Warcraft and a round of «Carcassonne»?
I found myself pondering this a few months ago in a Brussels café, observing two tables. At one, four friends were hunched over a cardboard field, arguing animatedly, laughing, passing tokens. At the other, three young people sat buried in their laptops, wearing headphones, occasionally exchanging glances and nods. Both groups were clearly playing. Both were clearly enjoying themselves. But were they playing the same thing? And most importantly – were they receiving the same thing?
An Old Dilemma in New Packaging
The history of humanity is a history of games. From the dice found in Ancient Egyptian tombs to the chessboards of medieval Europe, from the theatrical performances of Ancient Greece to modern digital universes – we have always played. Play was a method of learning, socialization, rest, and making sense of reality.
Board games in their modern understanding are the direct heirs to what people have been doing for thousands of years. They require physical presence, tactile contact with game elements, and immediate interaction with other participants. This is a continuation of a tradition that stretches from Roman dice games to chess tournaments at the courts of European monarchs.
MMOs – massive multiplayer online games – are a fundamentally different phenomenon. They appeared only at the end of the twentieth century, yet they have already managed to create their own culture, their own rituals, their own language. This is a new form of social interaction that did not exist in human history until the last few decades.
But is it truly so new?
Guilds: From Florence to Azeroth
In the fourteenth century, to become a full-fledged member of the stonemasons' guild in Florence, one had to walk a long path. First came years of apprenticeship, then time as a journeyman, and only then, having proven your craft, could you become a master. The guild was not merely a professional association. It was a social structure that provided identity, protection, and meaning.
When a player joins a guild in World of Warcraft or Final Fantasy XIV, something surprisingly similar occurs. They undergo a probationary period, learn to work as a team, and specialize in a specific role – tank, healer, ranged damage dealer. They participate in joint ventures – raids that require the coordination of dozens of people. They gain a reputation that follows them within the game world.
The structure is the same. The psychological mechanisms are the same. The human need to belong to a group, to contribute to a common cause, to receive recognition – all of this has remained unchanged since the days of medieval workshops.
But there are differences. The Florentine mason saw the faces of his guild fellows every day. He knew their families, shared bread and wine with them, smelled the sweat in the workshop. The modern player knows their guildmates by nicknames, voices on Discord, avatars on a screen. Physical distance is overcome by technology, but does this create the same depth of connection?
The Agora and the Gaming Table
The Ancient Greek agora was more than just a marketplace. It was a place where citizens met, discussed the affairs of the polis, philosophized, and argued. Socrates spent most of his time there, stopping passersby with questions that forced them to reflect on justice, virtue, and knowledge.
The agora was a space of immediate communication. You saw the micro-expressions of your interlocutor's face, heard their intonations, felt the atmosphere. The dialogue was alive, fluid, unpredictable. It was in such conditions that dialectic was born – the art of reaching the truth through argument.
A board game creates a similar space. When you sit at a table playing «Carcassonne», «Catan», or «Dungeons & Dragons», you create your own little agora. You discuss strategies, negotiate, bluff, and read each other's intentions through glances and gestures. You are present here and now, in this specific moment of time and space.
An MMO offers a different type of presence. You are simultaneously here – in your room, at the computer – and there, in a digital world where your avatar battles dragons or explores dungeons. This is a curious duality of consciousness that our ancestors did not know. You communicate with dozens, hundreds, thousands of people, but through an intermediary – through a screen, an interface, code.
What the Brain Says
Let us step away from historical parallels for a minute and turn to neuroscience. What happens in our brain when we play?
Studies show that board games activate several important areas of the brain simultaneously. The prefrontal cortex – responsible for planning and decision-making – works at full capacity. The hippocampus – the center of memory – remembers rules, strategies, and previous games. Mirror neurons – the system responsible for empathy and understanding the actions of others – activate when we observe the moves of opponents.
But what is particularly interesting is that board games engage the motor cortex. We move tokens, roll dice, deal cards. These physical actions create stronger neural connections. Memory becomes not just cognitive, but motor. You remember the game with your whole body.
MMOs also activate the brain, and quite intensely. Fast reaction times, spatial orientation, multitasking – all of this trains specific cognitive skills. Some studies show that experienced MMO players demonstrate improved peripheral vision, the ability to switch quickly between tasks, and better hand-eye coordination.
However, there is a nuance. MMOs often require repetitive actions – the so-called «grind». Kill a hundred monsters, gather a thousand resources, repeat a raid dozens of times to obtain a rare item. This can lead to the automation of actions, where the brain shifts into energy-saving mode. You are doing something, but you are not fully present in the process.
Board games, especially modern ones with their variety of mechanics and the need to adapt to the actions of other players, are less susceptible to such automation. Every game is unique. One cannot learn a single algorithm and repeat it endlessly.
Language and Thought
Ludwig Wittgenstein said that the limits of my language mean the limits of my world. Language does not simply describe reality – it shapes the way we perceive it.
In board games, language remains rich and multifaceted. You use intonations, pauses, body language. You might say «I am making this move» with confidence, doubt, or defiance – and each nuance will convey additional information. Your words are embedded in the context of physical presence.
In MMOs, language becomes more utilitarian. Chat requires speed, so abbreviations, slang, and emojis appear as an attempt to compensate for the lack of non-verbal communication. «LFG DPS 2k+» – this line is understandable to a player, but it is far from the richness of live dialogue. Voice chat partially solves the problem, yet you are still deprived of visual contact, gestures, and facial expressions.
This is neither good nor bad in itself. These are simply different modes of communication forming different types of thinking. One is more analytical and rapid, the other more contextual and multi-layered.
Time and Presence
The Ancient Greeks distinguished between two types of time: chronos – linear, measurable clock time – and kairos – qualitative time, the moment of opportune possibility, the time of full presence.
A board game usually has clear boundaries. You agree to meet, play for two or three hours, finish the game, and say goodbye. This time is carved out of everyday life; it is special. This is kairos – time filled with meaning and presence.
MMOs often blur the boundaries between game and life. You might log in for five minutes to check the auction house, stay for an hour for an unexpected raid, then another two hours because the guild needs your help. The game becomes the background of life, constantly accessible, always attracting attention. This is pure chronos – time flows, but where the game begins and reality ends becomes unclear.
On one hand, this creates an amazing sense of a living world that exists independently of you. On the other, a risk arises of losing connection with other aspects of life, of dissolving into the endless stream of in-game events.
Strategy and Improvisation
Chess is one of the oldest games to reach us in a recognizable form. Over the fifteen hundred years of its existence, it has spawned an incredible depth of theory. There are libraries of openings, millions of games in databases, and computers capable of calculating billions of positions.
But every game of chess is unique. After a few moves, a position arises that has never existed in the history of humanity. And then the player is left alone with the board, with their opponent, with their mind. No theory will give a ready-made answer. One must think here and now.
Modern board games continue this tradition. «Dungeons & Dragons» or other role-playing games are pure improvisation within the rules. The Game Master creates a situation, the players react in unpredictable ways, and the story is born in the process. It is theater where everyone is simultaneously an actor and a spectator.
MMOs offer an illusion of infinite choices, but in practice, they often direct the player along predetermined paths. Quests have clear solutions. Bosses are defeated using established tactics. The meta-game – optimal strategies discovered by the community – dictates how to play «correctly». Deviating from the meta is often punished by inefficiency or even ostracism from other players.
Of course, this is a generalization. Some MMOs provide more freedom. Some board games are quite rigid in their mechanics. But the trend is noticeable: digital games, being programmed, have a limit to their variability. Board games, moderated by a living person or a free interpretation of rules, are potentially boundless.
The Economy of Attention
We live in an era where attention has become a currency. Thousands of companies fight to keep your gaze on their product for just a few more seconds.
MMOs are created with this economy in mind. Daily quests, progression systems, time-limited events – all are tools to retain the player. Developers hire psychologists and economists to optimize so-called «engagement». The goal is for you to return again and again.
This is not necessarily malicious. Game creators want their worlds to be alive and interesting. But the result is often the same: the player feels an obligation to play, rather than a desire. «If I don't log in today, I will miss the event», «The guild is counting on me», «I have already invested so much time, I cannot quit».
A board game cannot hold you between sessions. The box sits on the shelf, waiting patiently. You play when you want, because you want to. There is no system of daily rewards, no fear of missing something important. This is old-fashioned freedom of choice, without the invisible pressure of algorithms.
Learning and Adaptation
Aristotle wrote that we become what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.
What habits do games form?
Board games teach patience. You wait for your turn. You watch the actions of others unfold. You learn to read people, notice patterns in their behavior, and adapt your strategy to the specific personalities at the table.
They teach one to lose with dignity. When the game is finished, you shake hands, discuss interesting moments, perhaps laugh at your own mistakes. Defeat becomes an experience, not a trauma.
MMOs, especially competitive ones, can form other patterns. Speed of reaction is valued above reflection. Optimizing efficiency becomes an imperative. The anonymity of the internet sometimes allows people to behave in ways they never would at a table with real people – harshly, rudely, selfishly.
Again, this is not universal. Many MMO communities are surprisingly friendly and supportive. Many players bring the same values to the digital world as they hold in the physical one. But the structure of the environment matters. It shapes behavior gently but persistently.
Memory and Materiality
I still keep a worn box of chess pieces with which I played against my grandfather. When I take these figures in my hands, I do not just remember the games – I feel his presence, hear his voice, see his thoughtful expression over the board.
The materiality of board games creates a connection with time and people. The battered «Munchkin» cards you played with friends for ten years straight. Dice bought in a small shop during a trip. A game board with a coffee stain that reminds you of that funny story when someone knocked over a cup in surprise.
The digital world is ephemeral. The server closes – and thousands of hours of play vanish. The character you created over years ceases to exist. Of course, screenshots, videos, and memories remain. But you cannot hold in your hands the old blade with which you fought the first boss. You cannot show it to your children or grandchildren, saying: «This is what we played with».
There is melancholy in this weightlessness of the digital. And there is a certain solidity in physical games that can outlive their creators and owners, being passed down from generation to generation.
Scale and Intimacy
MMOs create grandiose worlds. Continents to explore, hundreds of characters with written histories, thousands of players inhabiting these spaces. You can feel like part of something epic, something larger than yourself.
Board games are chamber-like by nature. Rarely do more than eight people play simultaneously. Usually, it is four or five. This is a human scale, an intimate one. You know everyone at the table. Everyone matters.
Both scales are important. Humans need both the sensation of belonging to something vast and a deep connection with the small. The question is one of balance.
A medieval person lived in a village – knew every neighbor, yet realized themselves as part of Christendom, a vast community of believers stretching from Scotland to Jerusalem. The local and the global coexisted.
A modern person can be part of a global guild in an MMO, uniting players from different continents, and simultaneously gather regularly with local friends for board games. One does not exclude the other. These are different types of connections satisfying different needs.
So What to Choose?
Returning to the question with which we began: what is better for the brain and communication?
The answer, as is often the case with important questions, is evasive. Better for what? For whom? In what context?
If you want to train reaction speed, spatial thinking, and the ability to coordinate the actions of large groups of people at a distance – MMOs provide unique opportunities.
If depth of interpersonal ties, full-fledged non-verbal communication, materiality, and the ritual of physical presence are important to you – board games are irreplaceable.
If you seek escapism, the chance to become someone else for a while, to explore grandiose fantastic worlds – MMOs open doors to infinite universes.
If you need a space for improvisation, creativity, and creating unique stories together with people close to you – tabletop role-playing games give this freedom.
The brain develops through diversity. Communication is enriched by multifacetedness. Perhaps the question is not what to choose, but how to balance.
A Conclusion That Does Not Conclude
I began by saying that the history of humanity is a history of games. Allow me to end with the same.
Play is the method by which we explore reality without bearing full responsibility for the consequences. It is a laboratory for emotions, strategies, and interactions. It is a space where one can take a risk, lose, learn, and try again.
MMOs and board games are two branches of the same tree. Both are rooted in the deep human need to play, compete, cooperate, and create stories. They use different media – pixels versus cardboard, global networks versus physical tables – but they serve similar goals.
The choice between them is, perhaps, not so much a question of the superiority of one over the other, as it is a question of self-knowledge. What do you need right now? What type of presence, what type of communication, what type of challenge?
And maybe the wisest course is not to choose at all, but to allow both types of games to enrich your life in their own way. Spend Friday evening in a raid with guildmates from different countries. And on Saturday, gather friends at the table, take out the worn box of a favorite game, pour some wine, and allow stories to be born in the space between you.
Because in the end, it is not the game itself that matters. It is what it gives us – joy, connection, meaning, understanding. And these things know no boundaries between the digital and the physical, between the new and the ancient.
Everything new is the old, but with a filter. And under this filter is still the same human need to be together, to play, to seek meaning in symbols and rules, to create worlds out of nothing.
Let us reflect on this together while we roll the dice or press the keys. In any case, we are playing.
