Suits and “game-playing”: formalism and subjectivism revisited. A critique

ABSTRACT

In his work, Bernard Suits presents and pursues a stated objective: to define ‘game’ or, more precisely, ‘game-playing’. In The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia, the author seeks a definition not as a ‘commitment to the universal fruitfulness of definition construction’, but rather with the idea ‘that some things are definable, and some are not’. This is something he believed could resolve many of the issues surrounding the debate on ‘game’ and ‘play’, such as those with Huizinga (in Homo Ludens) or proposed by the anti-definitionism of Wittgenstein, a philosopher who did not accept that it was possible to define ‘game’. In this article, we will trace Suits’ definitional steps and aim to critique his resolution as a kind of ‘formalism’, as it tended to prioritize rules. Furthermore, notwithstanding the merit of his theoretical endeavor – seen in the attempt to define a social component that is so complex and the target of the most diverse interpretations and misconceptions –, it seems to us that, with his theoretical unifying element (lusory attitude), the author has summoned another problem to the debate, that of ‘subjectivism’, rather than a solution (especially to his formalism), even subjecting himself to comparisons with other conceptions (e.g. Fichte) that are also problematic. This aspect will also be criticized. The attention of this article will shift to these two lines of critique, drawing on an insightful analysis of Malaby’s work at a specific juncture, aiming to delve further into the subject and taking an additional step.

KEYWORDS:

• Fichte
• lusory elements
• malaby
• process
• rules

The rules of a game are, in effect, proscriptions of certain means useful in achieving prelusory goals. […] the rules are accepted just because they make possible such activity (lusory attitude). Suits (1978, 51-52, 55).

1. From cinema to the focal point of the article: a sort of introduction

In the opening statements, as a foretaste for the article, we present the plot of the movie Ready or Not (2019). This movie helps to direct the focus of the article, as it revolves around a game, or at least what is assumed to be one within the storyline. Regardless of the perspective one takes, the essence of what constitutes a game is essentially the central theme of the current study and, somewhat grotesquely, of the movie in question.

In a nutshell, a member of an affluent family, known for accumulating wealth through games of chance and other similar lucrative ventures, is on the verge of getting married. After the wedding, the bride is obligated to partake in an exclusive family ritual, supposedly applicable to all new members.

This ritual involves randomly selecting a card from a box, with the chosen card determining the game the new member must play with the rest of the family—ranging from ‘dominoes’ and ‘chess’ to ‘Monopoly’, and so forth.

If a ‘normal’ card is drawn, the evening proceeds like any familiar gathering or game night. However, drawing the sole ‘bad’ card, designated for ‘hide-and-seek’, initiates a life-or-death game experience. The new member, unaware of the severity (expecting a typical children’s game), must hide, while the family chases him/her with the intent to kill.

The belief underpinning this ritual originates from a pact between a family ancestor and an individual (referred to as ‘Le Bail’ or, indirectly, the devil) who challenged him to a game. If the ancestor won (as he did), luck would favor him and his descendants indefinitely, as long as they remained bound by the described challenge and accepted its terms, including the possibility of this kind of ‘hide-and-seek’. The consequence for breaking the pact was literal body explosion if they refused to play (this or another randomly selected game) or failed to capture the fleeing new member until morning, who would try to escape within the property limits as soon as he/she realized the stakes.

There’s no need to further explore the plot; it is not worth spoiling the movie for those interested in watching it. The crucial point has been stated, namely that this entire situation is framed as a ‘game’, before, during, and after the drawn card.

We will revisit this situation later; for the time being, it is essential to provide a brief introduction to the main author and his work.

Bernard Suits (1925–2007), an American philosopher and long-time professor at the University of Waterloo, authored The Grasshopper: Games, Life, and Utopia in 1978. This work solidified his status as a grandmaster in the philosophy (theory) of games. Previously, in 1975–1976, he had presided over the International Association for the Philosophy of Sport, remaining an author of interest to both philosophical and broader audiences. Recently, a posthumously published sequel, Return of the Grasshopper (Suits 2023), continues to prove his ability to captivate attention.¹

In his original Grasshopper, Suits had a clear goal: to define ‘game’ or, more precisely, ‘game-playing’. An objective openly opposed to Wittgenstein’s anti-definitionism (1953, § 66, 36[e]; Suits 1978, 21–22), a philosopher who did not accept that it was possible to define ‘game’ beyond mere ‘family resemblances’. But also pushing back against the idea that ‘play’ (or ‘game’) encompasses all cultural aspects, making it practically indefinable—an issue initially raised by Huizinga in his classic Homo Ludens (1938) and critiqued by Suits himself (Suits 1977, 117). This was a concern he had harbored since at least the preceding decade (Suits 1967).

As it appears evident, the drive to dispel the confusion surrounding the debate served as ample motivation. Following (1977, 117, 1978, 22), a definition functions as a ‘restriction or limitation’ capable of addressing numerous existing problems, not as a ‘commitment to the universal fruitfulness of definition construction’, but rather with the idea ‘that some things are definable and some are not’.

Before arriving at his condensed version—‘playing a game is the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles’ –, the author expounds on what he means by ‘lusory elements’: ‘goals’, ‘means’, and ‘rules’. He argues that the unity of playing a game and its elements is ensured by another type of element, an ‘attitude’, the ‘lusory’ one, while emphasizing the constitutive role of the rules. Due to this issue, we are convinced that the author is incorporating a kind of formalism into his proposal, which we intend to criticize.

Despite his commendable theoretical effort, seen in the attempt to define a social component that is so complex and the target of the most diverse interpretations and misconceptions, it seems to us that the author introduced another problem into the debate with the ‘attitude’ element. This element, allegedly serving a consolidating role, appears to add the issue of subjectivism to that of formalism. Consequently, he subjected himself to comparisons with other conceptions (e.g. Fichte) that are also problematic. Once again, we also intend to criticize it.

These two fundamental aspects will serve as the focal point of the article going forward. Throughout this critical reassessment we will present our perspective, drawing on an insightful analysis of Malaby’s work at a specific juncture, aiming to delve further into the subject and taking an additional step.

2. Game-playing definition: “elements” of the game and “lusory attitude”

Before delving into our own critique, let us briefly outline Suits’ proposal for defining ‘game-playing’. We will refrain from an exhaustive exploration of his extensive examples and counterexamples for now, leaving that for the reader and for future study.

After explaining how ‘play’ distinguishes itself from ‘work’, where the latter is a necessary task and the former is pursued purely for autotelic reasons—which describes an activity with its own goals, duration, marked spaces, and specific conditions for ending –, Suits proceeds propaedeutically. According to him (1978, 48–49): playing a game involves participating in an activity directed towards achieving a specific situation, using only means allowed by rules. These rules prohibit more efficient methods in favor of less efficient ones, and they are accepted solely because they facilitate the activity.

Suits, when refining his initial definition, introduces the term ‘lusory’ in terms of ludic specificity (from the Latin: Ludus). So, when referring to ‘an activity directed towards achieving a specific situation’, he implies ‘objectives’ or ‘goals’, dividing them into ‘pre-lusory’ and ‘lusory’. Here his explanation goes into more detail.

He (1978, 50–51) progresses to what he terms ‘prelusory goals’, corresponding to descriptions before or independently of any game one participates in, with the aim of bringing about a specific state of affairs. According to him, any achievable situation can cleverly be transformed into a game goal.

Moving on to the ‘lusory goal’ of a game, Suits (1978, 51) suggests that victory can only be described in the context of the specific game, designating it as the ‘lusory goal’. Additionally, he introduces the idea that the goal of participating in a game is not strictly a part of the game but merely one of the objectives individuals may have, like wealth or glory. It can be termed a ‘lusory goal’, but as the ‘lusory goal of life’ rather than games.

In essence, the ‘lusory goal’ is directly integrated into the game and is facilitated by being in the game; it doesn’t precede it. Participation allows achieving that ‘goal’, just as engaging in a particular activity enables reaching a specific state, such as wealth.

Thus far, part of the ‘goals’ may seem like those in society, yet in the scope of play, they must be seen as something else due to their ‘pre-lusory’ or ‘lusory’ quality.

The author proceeds to discuss the ‘means permitted by the rules’, which refer to the ways that allow the gameplay. He articulates the following description (1978, 51): ‘[t]he Lusory means are means which are permitted (are legal or legitimate) in the attempt to achieve prelusory goals’. The ‘goals’ brought into the game ‘before or independently of any game’ seem to have greater significance concerning the framework allowed by the legality of the ‘means’.

There is a connection between these ‘means’, particularly in their normative context, and the ‘prelusory goals’, rather than the ‘lusory goals’. This is because the ‘lusory goals’ are more concerned with the approach to achieving the end, as opposed to the adherence to legal means for playing or winning. The example of Suits vividly illustrates it: an extraordinarily effective method to achieve the preliminary goal in a boxing match is to shoot the opponent in the head. Certainly, this does not adhere to the legality or permitted means of the game, both within its context and beyond.

Considering the legality mentioned and what is expected for the rest of the Suits’ outline, it becomes evident that ‘lusory means’ are tied to the constraints of the game, whereas the other type of ‘means’, referred to by him (1978, 51) as ‘illusory means’, may not be.

Hence, similar to the concepts of ‘goals’ and ‘means’, there exist two categories of ‘rules’, with one more closely linked to ‘prelusory goals’ and the other to ‘lusory goals’.

Concerning the initial type of rules, Suits (1978, 51–52) proposed ‘inefficiency’ illuminates how rules operate in games: ‘[t]he rules of a game are, in effect, proscriptions of certain means useful in achieving prelusory goals’, meaning these rules prevent someone from efficiently targeting an opponent in a game where shootings are not expected. These are the rules Suits identifies as ‘constitutive rules’, which, combined with the definition of ‘prelusory goal’, establish all the necessary conditions for playing the game.

There are ‘rules’ allowing the game to be played, and consequently, ‘rules of skill’ emerge—the other type of rules. These, diverging from the ‘constitutive’, remain confined within the constitutive space and are linked to the ‘lusory goal’. However, achieving it requires greater skill than others, adding an additional layer within the constraints of the games. As for the ‘prelusory goals’, as seen, strict compliance is necessary, it is exclusively about adhering to the legal framework of the game, nothing more, it is not about varying levels of expertise.

At the conclusion of the propaedeutic definition, attention is drawn to the ‘rules accepted solely because they facilitate the (game) activity’, justifying the transition from an essential formal description to what Suits terms the ‘lusory attitude’. An ‘attitude’ he (1978, 50) previously hinted at, aiming to persuade the reader that this is ‘[…] the element which unifies the other elements into a single formula’ (our emphasis), enabling the successful articulation of the ‘necessary and sufficient conditions’ for any activity to qualify as ‘game-playing’.

Suits provides a further definition for the ‘lusory attitude’: it is ‘[…] the acceptance of constitutive rules just so the activity made possible by such acceptance can occur’ (Suits 1978, 54). This should be (allegedly) distinguished from a subjective projection or setting of the ‘game’. Instead, it should be an attitude facilitating ‘game-playing’, as he (1977, 130) indicates, a mere ‘attitude towards games, and not towards something else’.

Thus, we have ‘goals’, ‘means’, and ‘rules’ for the ‘game(−playing)’, but active participation and involvement in the formal structure of the game depend on being in a lusory disposition or ‘attitude’. Without this, no meaningful participation is possible.

For better understanding, we can compare it to what Huizinga (1949, passim) referred to as the ‘magic circle’ (magische Kreis), suggesting that a game cannot exist without excluding what is considered ‘normal’ in daily life. Or, in Suitsian terms, without excluding what lies beyond the ‘constitutive rules’ that are lusorily accepted (which, as previously noted, involves moving away from a context where activities like work may occur). Despite the comparison, it is also implicit in this that Suits rejects these terms as synonymous with a broader, more spontaneous type of play observed in children and animals.

Reaching this juncture, before moving on to our critical section (where the comparison with Huizinga will play a pivotal role), it is essential to encapsulate Suits’ concluding thoughts, beyond his preliminary approach. He asserts (1978, 54–55): playing a game involves striving to attain a specific situation (prelusory goal) using means strictly allowed by rules (lusory means), where rules prohibit the use of more efficient means in favor of less efficient ones (constitutive rules), and the rules are accepted solely because they make this activity possible (lusory attitude).

Persistently dissatisfied, Suits (1978, 55) proceeds to introduce what he refers to as a ‘more portable version’, as hinted at in our introduction: ‘[…] playing a game is the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles’ (our emphasis). This ends up by stressing the voluntary aspect of the player’s engagement with the game. The ‘lusory attitude’ cannot be an involuntary act; the potential player must willingly accept the rules and avoid seeking more efficient means before even entering the game.

In summary, what Suits defines as the enabler of ‘game-playing’, or what constitutes it, is characterized by the formalistic nature of the ‘constitutive rules’. Moreover, it depends on an ‘attitude’ that unifies the various game elements—‘goals’, ‘means’, and ‘rules’ – in a manner requiring voluntary engagement, thereby highlighting the role of subjectivity.

Despite other potential criticisms, it is now time to redirect our attention to the critiques mentioned at the outset, to which we have begun to approach more evidently.

3. First critical review: formalism

In hindsight, Suits’ proposition implies an ‘internal’ structure for games, ‘it itself is unified, with internal connections between its parts’ (Hurka 2019, 16; for ‘internalism’ see also Frías 2014). This leads to an abstraction from elements outside the lusory internal framework. As mentioned elsewhere (Bergström 2010, 86), when the rules of the game define the game itself, it excludes components and the broader cultural context.

Suits’ ludic-theoretical concept seems to have leaned towards (the trap of … , Malaby 2007, 101) formalism, defined as the perspective ‘[…] that the essential nature of a game is its rule‐set and that proper play involves obeying the rules’ (Nguyen 2017, 9). This essentially means that ‘[…] the rules, or its formal structure, comprise its very definition’ (Triviño 2014, 358). As a result, elements such as ‘goals’, ‘means’, and ‘rules’ are abstracted from potential external factors, distilled into a formalization for game(−playing), expressed through its ‘constitutive rules’.

To ensure the continued progression of our critique, it is crucial to redirect the focus away from what is depicted as ‘game-playing’ and towards its external factors; it is in this direction that formalism should begin to crumble.

Some critiques frequently fall into the categories of ‘conventionalism’ and ‘interpretivism’. Conventionalism suggests that the perception of sports, or how games are viewed, should not be confined to their rules but should be seen as a convention, an ‘ethos’ of the game (as may be find in D’agostino 1981). On the other hand, Interpretivism argues that sports should be interpreted by considering ‘ethical principles’, ‘constitutive abilities or excellences’, and ‘internal goods’ (Triviño 2014, 359).

Nevertheless, neither of these criticisms aligns completely with our perspective. While the first critique acknowledges the importance of the circumstances surrounding the game and its players, it encounters some problems, particularly in its emphasis on ‘convention’, shifting from a decisively subjective standpoint (referring to an individual’s voluntary or attitudinal adherence to a ‘game’, as we will see in the next critique section) to an intersubjective one, which remains subjective but collectively shaped.² The second critique narrows its focus to issues that are once again potentially ‘internal’ and axiological, like the issues present in Suits’ framework (let us set aside the further exploration of these issues, as we are setting aside matters such as his proposal of ‘utopia’ and the ensuing debate surrounding the ‘theory of value’).

In essence, despite the highlighted issues, what these criticisms ultimately reveal is how it becomes evident that formalism does not sufficiently account for, and sometimes outright ignores, the fact that ‘game-playing’ depends not only on the formal rules that offer normative framing but also on a broader, extragame context. At the very least, these discussions should begin with more conventional definitions (while keeping in mind the earlier caveat), such as: ‘[…] a game is a context with rules among adversaries trying to win objectives’ (our emphasis, Abt 1970, 7).

At this point, we come across Malaby (2007, 111 n.), who, in his article ‘Beyond Play’, seems to overcome the issue posed by ‘conventionalism’ (and certainly ‘interpretivism’), especially when he asserts that ‘[g]ames are governed not only by their rule systems [– yes, it is true, also –] but also by implicit and shared cultural expectations [– yes, there is also, in part, convention –] as well as the material conditions under which they are undertaken’ (emphasis added).

In addition to these questions, Malaby (2007, 99–100) had previously brought forth ideas, such as the notion that all facets of ‘play’ or ‘games’ manifesting at a particular time and place are cultural accomplishments. He argued for treating and examining them as such rather than as inherent or internal characteristics. Moreover, he posited that empirical evidence demonstrates that play and games are not naturally separate from other aspects of human experience. In direct contradiction to one of Suits’ axioms, he argued against a false separation of human activity into ‘play’ and ‘work’, asserting that the distinction is relative among various modes of experience.

Additional remarks about this anthropologist, Malaby (2007, 102–104), are pertinent as he reaches a point that concludes the trajectory we have observed in this critique, namely: ‘games are processual’. He contends that games (not internally) always contain the potential to generate new practices and meanings, possibly reconfiguring themselves. This is because they are based on, and constituted by, human practice, not occurring in isolation and, therefore, always in a state of becoming. His assertion culminates in the idea that ‘[…] it becomes possible to identify the universal features of games as a set of processes, without sacrificing their connection with other aspects of experience’.³

The principles guiding a critique of the formalistic setting proposed by Suits can follow this path without encountering significant embarrassment. A critique of such a ‘metaphysics of the game’ is feasible if the aim is to explore the broader context and the specificities in which play and game exists, considering process and its inherent material condition that cannot be internalized or formalized, thereby implicating its historicity.

From here it may be possible to deepen the connection between the domains of human praxis, acknowledging that the game is as dynamic as human evolution and subject to constant transformation, even when referring to ancient games such as ‘Go’. Formally, the game may be the same, but it is not genuinely identical when played by one of its early participants (thousands of years ago) compared to someone playing it in nowadays context.

The critical orientation we are now considering entails what we consider to be a step beyond Malaby. It implies a Hegelian-Marxian perspective, indicating that ‘metaphysics’ arises when a particular concept is abstracted from the real (ideal and/or material) mediations that constitute it (Hegel 1830, § 66, 156).⁴ In other words, anything not adhering to a framework of historical reflection is abstract—often speculative or exclusively theoretical. Conversely, historicity (dialectical and materialist in Marx’s case) is relational, transient, and involves thinking about and analyzing the concrete process. Any abstract or abstracted element must take this into account; otherwise, it is likely to be mere speculation.

In this context, Suits’ ‘metaphysics of game’, expressed through formalism, appears as an abstraction of ‘game-playing’, isolating ‘goals’, ‘means’, and ‘rules’ from the markedly historical and material social relations that create them. The ‘satisfactory dependent measure’ must not forget that ‘play is, above all, a process’ (Burghardt 2005, 405), but a historical one.⁵ Definitions are crucial (as Suits said: some things are definable, and some are not), but, like everything else, they cannot escape the flow of days, becoming and the evolving praxis within it, and the accompanying reflection (written and spoken).

By taking this step, we believe we are not only achieving the recovery of mediation and historicity, going beyond any ‘recursive plan’ (as Malaby came to suggest) that presents itself as constitutive of the process,⁶ but also serving an antidote to strict formalism.

4. Second critical review: subjectivism

We have previously explored how, according to Suits, the ‘lusory attitude’ shouldn’t be confused with the subjectivist notion implying an ability to set something as real, essentially establishing it, in this case, as the ‘game’ (with Suits intending to connect the ‘attitude’ to the playing). Thus, what is being suggested here should simply be an attitude that facilitates ‘game-playing’. However, there is often, and to varying degrees, a distinction between what philosophers (and other professionals or enthusiasts) think of themselves and what can be inferred from their own conception.

Having said that, we have now arrived at what we believe is genuinely derived from the Suitsian text: the ‘lusory attitude’ imbues a subjectivist tone into the study of the game, defining what ‘game-playing’ is (thereby adding to the already identified formalism).

It had been previously suggested, particularly with the emphasized type of voluntarism, but also with some mitigation when the criticism pointed out its not only formalist but also internalist nature. In a sense, we believe this contradicts the initial definition efforts and the author’s intended goal, not in the opposition to Wittgenstein (there he will remain correct: something can always be defined), but due to the loss of objectivity. Without the same ‘attitude’ (necessarily internal), ‘game-playing’, or as we believe to be underlying here, the ‘game’, is never truly the game, but merely a reflection of the player’s attitude.

In this regard, Suits introduces a distinctive aspect to his formalism by introducing the ‘lusory attitude’, emphasizing the voluntary (subjective) acceptance of rules, encompassing the entire set of proposed elements. In a way, the ‘game-playing’ attitude becomes an integral part of the ‘game’.

We find ourselves in direct opposition to one of Suits’ major interpreters, Hurka, who argues that, unlike Huizinga and Caillois, Suits does manage to distinguish ‘game-playing’ from ‘play’.⁷ Hurka (2019, 13 and 17–18) maintains that the ‘lusory attitude’ refers to ‘to play’ and not to the ‘game’. It’s true, it is acknowledged by us that Suits has ‘game-playing’ more in mind than the ‘game par lui même’. However, the oscillations between ‘play’ and ‘game’ aren’t occasional but structural, ultimately impacting his theory (Carlson 2011, 76–78 calls this a ‘conflation’).

Therefore, despite the support, Hurka (2019, 21) is the same author who confesses that, for Suits, ‘written exams’, ‘driving according to traffic rules’, can be considered ‘games’. In other words, this is only possible if the ‘attitude’ emanating from the player becomes the decisive factor in deciding not only what is ‘playing’ but also for what constitutes a ‘game’.

This hypothesis consistently adds to what is already assumed in Suits’ proposal as a ‘formal’ and ‘internal’ composition for the game, now manifesting itself more prominently through a subjective internalization (as noticed by one of the excerpts previously quoted and highlighted in the epigraph: through the acceptance of rules). In this regard, and as seen in the first critical moment, there’s an abstraction from non-internal elements. This is evidenced by the following: there is a close relationship between the player and the formal structure, between the rules and the ‘attitude’ toward them, essentially connected to what can be understood as ‘attitudinal’ (e.g. Feezell 2010, 162), i.e. linked to, rooted in, or reflective of individual attitudes or emotions.

To sum up before we delve into a comparison that appears problematic for Suits: in the previous internal mode, while the ‘game’ seemed to retain some of its objective character (even in its formality, not yet totally subjectified), the introduction of the ‘attitude’ appears to lead to its complete dissolution into subjectivity.

As an example, in an author who wrote just before Suits, Gadamer (1975, 107 [97]), influenced to some extent by Huizinga, we may encounter the following: ‘[c]ertainly, the behavior of the player can be distinguished from the game itself, which, as such, is associated with other behaviors of subjectivity’.⁸ In essence, nothing in the game is exempt from being encompassed by these ‘behaviors’ or ‘modes’, even when attempting to preserve some independent status for the game itself.

To complete, this author and his Huizinga-inspired ideas serve to reintroduce, in a comparative way, what has already been briefly mentioned by us and underlies the question: the ‘magic circle’, describing what Huizinga understood as a game having to signify something that excludes what is considered ‘normal’ in everyday life.⁹ As predicted by Chapter 2, here we find another clue to what we find problematic in the Suitsian proposal.

The concept of the ‘circle’, as can be inferred from Huizinga, appears somewhat contradictory to the broader idea presented by the author himself. While Huizinga (1949, 4–5) seeks to justify the overall inclusivity of ‘play’ in human life, the enjoyment of the space within this ‘circle’ requires one to detach oneself from life itself. But this possibility already precisely foreshadows a tension between the objectivity and the subjectivity within these conceptions of the game.

Despite this more oscillating condition of the Huizingian proposal regarding game studies, it is an idea that has gained adherents. This is indicated by Walz (2010, 95) when highlighting the popularization of the ‘circle’ recorded from Tekinbas and Zimmerman (2004, 94 ss.), which can suit various preferences. Henricks (2006, 2) draws a parallel between the ‘circle’ and entering Alice’s in Wonderland world, where logic is surpassed, and confusion ensues. Decades earlier, the surrealists had employed and expanded the ‘circle’ for their more critical-alternative endeavors (Pederson 2021, 39, 41). From a cultural standpoint, it can also be suggested that game culture, or playculture, as commonly termed, is a culture where participants find a space (the ‘circle’) for permission, experimentation, and subversion (Flanagan 2009, 13).¹⁰ Ultimately, ‘[…] a game would not be a game without exclusion from what is considered normal and without containment of its own corridor of meaning’ (Arlt and Arlt 2023, 61).

Instead of alienation from the external, such an ‘exclusion’ should highlight the question of the objectivity and context/process of the game (as being independent and external in relation to subjectivity) as the key point. In this sense, while the process is determinant, the internal proposal can still be perceived as a limited means to consider the issue rather than as the issue itself. The understanding of this is what sets the factions apart.

Furthermore, in Huizinga (1949, 28), these concerns are still linked to his ‘metaphysics of freedom’, specifically regarding its nearly unrestrained nature when one is about to engage in the game and adhering to its rules.

There is also a French-speaking author whose notion of ‘freedom’ will be significant for his approach to these ideas. Duflo (1997, 78–79) aims to highlight the freedom produced in the structure of a ‘ludic contract’ (contrat ludique), emphasizing that there is a freedom prior to the game, but, as with Huizinga, the individual relinquishes it to play. This, within the genre circumscribed by us, refers to that ‘circle’ and a free ‘attitude’ towards the game.

Duflo’s conclusion (1997, 222) is significant: ‘[t]he ludic contract, thus, is this agreement on the foundational ludic legality that establishes its reign. It is the decision to insert this ludic time and space […] into real time and space. It decides on ludic closure’ (our emphasis).¹¹ The decision-making problems, individualistic, aggregative, typically associated with a contractarian doctrine (generally outside the scope of our text), are not coincidental in these proposals, only more intersubjective than purely subjective.¹²

So, mutatis mutandis, in the ‘lusory attitude’, the ‘magic circle’, or the ‘ludic contract’, the perspective of the subject, of a subjectivity capable of setting or establishing the ‘game’, doesn’t always align with the intentions of its proponents. However, this often occurs at the expense of objectivity, resembling an eighteenth-century philosophy, particularly in the specific context, as exemplified by Fichte.

In the work of this German philosopher (1794, passim), the idea of ‘co-determination’ can be found comparatively. To escape (without achieving the intended effect) idealism, a co-relation between an ideal structure and a non-ideal one is assumed, resulting in the following: what is real, understood as external to the subject, appears as presenting ‘resistance’ (Widerstand) to an ‘I’, and allegedly, reality does not cease to exist. Nevertheless, in the end, an ‘I’ needs to face ‘resistance’ to bring (setting) self-awareness of reality into a tangible existence. Epistemological and ontological dimensions merge in this way, equating the subject with the objective process in which it is embedded.¹³

Similarly, perhaps Kant could be invoked, an author who doesn’t shy away from committing to an indispensable condition of subjectivity. However, instead of subjective consciousness, we have subjective ‘attitude’ as a conditioning factor for the game (thing) in itself (for the way Kant posits the Ding an sich, 1781, b xxvi [25]). In a certain sense, it even appears that Suits aligns with the prevailing language in the realm of ‘play’, as identified by Henricks (2006, 4 ff.), a blend originating from education, psychology, folklore, and animal behavior studies, since this amalgamation often advocates for a ‘triumph of personal motivation over public constraint’.

That being stated, for all these conceptions, if it is not the player who sets or establish the game (as Suits aimed to evade), and it is not a game (or its context) that, on its own, sets the player, then both must present an equivalent ontological relationship. It is no accident that ‘playing a game is a voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles’, meaning the players (subjectively) sets themselves against some ‘resistance’ (represented in the formality of its elements, with special emphasis on the constitutive rules). In other words, the game-form ends-up depending on subjective internal conditions through voluntary acceptance, thus confirming (once again) the marginalization of (game) objectivity as understood within the material and historical process.

5. Tentative conclusion

To sum up, from our perspective, there is an excessive closeness between the ‘lusory universe’ and the concepts of the ‘magic circle’ or the ‘ludic contract’, as well as a similarity to a philosophical (subject-biased) position found in Fichte. Neither of these authors (Suits, Huizinga, and Duflo, respectively) intended to present a game as a self-setting of a player. However, eventually, the evident dependence of the former on the latter became too apparent (at the very least, creating doubt).

The ‘attitude’, as we interpret it, involves the internal, subjective acceptance of a player-subject entering a game. What is undertaken in order to comprehend a game already internalized within its formal structure.

This situation overlooks not only what really defines a game, its objective conditions, but also the understanding that ‘game-playing’ doesn’t exclusively or primarily pertain to the player or to its own rules. Instead, external conditions must be in place for the game to be truly played, and commitment to its rules must evolve from there. Malaby (2007, 103) precisely points this out when contending that games are not rigidly fixed structures, but rather continuous processes embedded in specific cultural (and material) contexts. According to him, rules should be regarded as frequently subject to alteration or even disregard due to considerations tied to their cultural context, as we have seen.

As we have attributed additional significance to the way the process unfolded with this author, it is worth noting that the subjective viewpoint shares the same root as formalism, leading to a disconnection from historicity. This is important to understand because material and social development occurs within a framework of historical mediations and properly circumscribed contexts, rather than simply as a gradual process. In essence, the concept of ‘game’ (both in general and in specific instances) differs between a capitalist society in the 21st century and another society, even when approached formally or subjectively in a similar manner. However, it is important to recognize that there are historical continuities that span longer periods than others, and a game can retain the same historical significance over time. But this is not solely dependent on its formality or any particular ‘attitude’.

Moving on, some instances highlighting the inconsistency of Suits’ proposition with the process standpoint include his absolute separation between ‘play’ and ‘work’, since this is linked to the general conditions of life. Additionally, he (1978, 26) should have refrained from casually presenting the ‘grasshopper’ perspective (his main character)—‘[…] the whole burden of my teaching is that you ought to be idle’ –, without indicating the historicity of leisure, when it originated, who could enjoy it, its relation to surplus production and emerging classes, and its contemporary status.

If only Suits had considered these issues, he wouldn’t automatically dismiss, in favor of the autotelic attitude and game rules, the functionality (non-functionalistic) of play and/or the game. Historically, the undeniable functional role of games in the social sphere exists, even if it doesn’t determine what a game is or the entirety of ‘game-playing’.¹⁴ Or even disregard that the ‘lusory attitude’ implies more than a voluntary act of playing the game, it represents a speculative opportunity to subjectively remove it from its historical context.

Eventually, rather than dedicating a significant portion of the book to formulating a ‘game theory’, as indicated by Suits in his preface (1978, 21), what is outlined in his unique approach is a ‘metaphysics of play’, even a ‘metaphysics of the ludic’, even though, the ‘grasshopper’ saying: ‘Metaphysics is not really my line’ (1978, 117).

Suits approach indeed seems to confirm itself as a form of double internalism, comprising one strand of formalism and another of subjectivism, interwoven in its unique manner. It is as if the first strand focuses the (absolute) internal nature of the ‘game itself’, and the second, the internalizing nature that the subject imparts from himself/herself to the ‘game’ for there to be a real ‘game’, thereby losing the context/process and inherent historicity. Suits immerses the intended definition in such consequences, as a speculative abstraction, lacking each of its mediations.

Before we conclude, let us revisit, as promised, our starting point: it is reasonable to expect that a philosopher (or anyone for that matter) would immediately discern, much like the main character ‘Grace le Domas’ in Ready or Not, a bride hunted by her new in-laws, that human hunting is not a ‘game’, and it lacks any element of ‘playfulness’. This stands in contrast to what one might assume if closely following Suits’ formalistic and attitudinal proposal (contradicting what seemed to be his intended proposal): take it lusorily, and instead of a struggle for survival, the protagonist finds herself engaged in a clearly defined ‘game-playing’, of course, as long as her struggle takes on the voluntary form of attempt to overcome (or resist) plainly unnecessary obstacles. A potential risk looming within the realms of strict formalism and subjectivism in gaming.

To accept it in Suits’ manner, we would likely need to retrace our critique and begin embracing the oscillations between ‘play’ (taken very generically) and ‘game’, assimilating it into a notion, as Suits seemingly ends up doing, of ‘game-playing’ (not that they cannot coincide in part, but not in this formalistic and subjectivistic way nor in such a grotesque manner), finally accomplishing it through ‘lusory attitude’.

To conclude, in our current reassessment, it appears crucial to emphasize, in a critique of Suits’ definition, that discussing ‘game’ without veering into an overly expansive concept of ‘play’ (Huizinga), specifically by highlighting institutionalized games, therefore of ‘universally’ recognized formality, requires careful navigation. Hastily proceeding without proper reflection carries the risk of entanglement in formalism and/or subjectivism. It may even result in a failure to confirm the initial intention, overlooking the mediations that shape, enrich, and clarify our understanding of the process, where the game and its playing are effectively established. A question that, if ignored, we must insist upon, relegates the game to metaphysical abstraction, rather than being part of a process (also reflexive) which allows us to approach the subject more closely and gain deeper insights.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

This work was funded by the exploratory project The Public Interest. The Politico-Philosophical Investigation (EXPL/FER-ETC/1226/2021; doi.org/10.54499/CEECINST/00157/2018/CP1643/CT0004), hosted by the Centre for Ethics, Politics and Society (CEPS), University of Minho, 2023. PhD in Philosophy (FCT fellow: SFRH/BD/116938/2016) by the School of Arts and Humanities of the University of Lisbon (FLUL), 2021

Notes

1. The archives of his university (https://archives.uwaterloo.ca/index.php/bernard-suits-fonds-2) and the International Association (https://iaps.net/resources/philosophy-of-sport-resources/suits/), which he led, are current sources for studying the author’s texts and other unpublished materials. For a more up-to-date and thorough insight, please consult the recent issue of this very journal: Kobiela, F.; Triviño; J. L. P.; and Frías, F. J. L. (eds.). 2019. Sport, Ethics and Philosophy, 13 (3–4)—Special Issue on ‘Bernard Suits’ Legacy: New Inspirations and Interpretations’ (https://www.tandfonline.com/toc/rsep20/13/3-4).

2. For a classic example of what we aim to illustrate with this critique, it is best to convey what Habermas (1981, 237) articulated, in a similar intersubjective fashion: ‘[…] the reality is constituted within the framework of an informally organized way of life of communicating groups. Real is what can be experienced under the interpretation of a prevailing symbolism’. - ‘Die Wirklichkeit konstituiert sich im Rahmen einer umgangssprachlich organisierten Lebensform kommunizierender Gruppen. Wirklich ist, was unter den Interpretation einer geltenden Symbolik erfahren werden kann’. In other words, reality (Wirklichkeit) is a product of what subjects communicate about it, losing sight of what is independent of what they are capable of signifying.

3. However, our general agreement is not without dispute, especially when Malaby (2007, 203–205 and 207) attempts to clarify the meaning of the ‘process’ and characterizes it as ‘recursive’. Yet, since the project of anthropology differs from the project of philosophy, we will have to leave a more in-depth critique and potential room for further convergence for another study. Here, our focal point persists in critiquing Suits.

4. Numerous other excerpts could serve as examples, but this one significantly exemplifies the function of ‘mediation’ (Vermittlung): ‘[…] the immediacy of knowledge not only excludes the mediation of the same, but they are so interconnected that immediate knowledge is even the product and result of mediated knowledge’. - ‘[…] die Unmittelbarkeit des Wissens nicht nur die Vermittlung desselben nicht aus, sondern sie sind so verknüpft, daß das unmittelbare Wissen sogar Produkt und Resultat des vermittelten Wissens ist’.

5. For the expression related to ‘measure’ and which can be related to the Suitsian endeavor: ‘[t]he very ambiguity of the term “play”, the uncertainty as to just how different behaviors may be to still qualify as “play”, will constantly work to divide and confuse all who do not first consider and communicate their personal definitions of the term. And if research on theories of play is to be carried out, a satisfactory dependent measure of play will have to be devised’ (Gilmore 1966, 342–343).

6. The repetition (or re-application of a rule) to infinity, even with ‘emergent change’, does not align with the constant transformation of circumstances and the perishable nature inherent in historicity (dialectically and materially).

7. It should be noted that Caillois (1958) significantly influenced the understanding of ‘play’ by revising Huizinga’s originally unidirectional definition of ‘play’ into a fourfold categorization. Nevertheless, it could be argued that he did not sufficiently distance himself from a certain ambiguity between the concepts of ‘play’ and ‘game’.

8. ‘Gewiß läßt sich von dem Spiel selbst das Verhalten des Spielenden unterscheiden, das als solches mit anderen Verhaltensweisen der Subjektivität zusammengehört’.

9. Which can be summarized as follows: ‘[t]o play fully and imaginatively is to step sideways into another reality, between the cracks of ordinary life. […] To play deeply is to cut oneself off from the continuities and complexities of life’ (Henricks 2006, 1–2).

10. Regardless of its increasing popularity, this concept has faced criticism (Nguyen 2017, 97–98). Not all authors delving into the subject agree with this condition, as seen in the case of SICART (2014, 16), who suggests confusion between the autotelic nature of the game and the idea of formally rigid boundaries, as these should not exist there, and there should not be a clear demarcation between the world of the game and the general world. The non-playful meaning can interfere with games (Castranova 2005, 151), and games have boundaries that are semi-permeable (Goffman apud Henricks 2006, 169).

11. ‘Le contrat ludique, ainsi, est cet accord sur la légalité ludique fondatrice, qui instaure son règne. Il est la décision d’insérer ce temps et cet espace ludique dont on a parlé plus haut dans le temps et l’espace rél. Il décide de la clôture ludique’.

12. According to Duflo (1997, 250), an activity that lies beyond the bounds of ‘legal freedom’ (legaliberté) and the ‘ludic contract’ cannot be classified as a ‘game’; this is exemplified by the distinction between street fighting and boxing.

13. ‘The activity of the I [or ego] consists in unrestricted self-setting: resistance arises against it. If it were to yield to this resistance, the activity extending beyond the limits of resistance would be completely annihilated and nullified; the I would not set at all in that regard’. - ‘Die Tätigkeit des Ich besteht im unbeschränkten Sich-Setzen: es geschieht gegen dieselbe ein Widerstand. Wiche sie diesem Widerstande, so würde diejenige Tätigkeit, welche über die Grenze des Widerstandes hinausliegt, völlig vernichtet und aufgehoben; das Ich würde insofern überhaupt nicht setzen’ (Fichte 1794, § 4, E, I, 214).

14. e.g.: ‘I view play as behavior that functions to develop, practice, or maintain physical or cognitive abilities and social relationships, including both tactics and strategies, by varying, repeating, and/or recombining already functional subsequences of behavior outside their primary context. It is a matter of taste whether behaviors that do not simultaneously satisfy the structural, causal—contextual, functional, and developmental criteria of this definition are to be called play’ (Fagen 1981, 65).