THINGS I LEARNED PLAYING "CIVILIZATION"

Civilization is a series of turn-based strategy video games, first released in 1991....The series is considered a formative example of the 4X genre, in which players achieve victory through four routes: "eXplore, eXpand, eXploit, and eXterminate."

This introduction, courtesy of Wikipedia, spares me having to summarize the game which never fails to amaze me: Civilization. For it is by playing Civilization, more than history, that the present course of affairs in Europe and Asia becomes readily understandible to me. So too do past historical events -- wars, depressions, blockades, colonizations, religious crusades, genocides. Indeed, it isn't an exaggeration to say that everything a person needs to know about what Bismarck referred to coldly as Realpolitik -- "a system of politics or principles based on practical rather than moral, ethical or ideological considerations" -- can be taught simply by playing this game. Put simply, Civilization is a tutorial on the real world. Not the one diplomats and politicians and a willfully credulous public pretend exists: reality. Cold, hard, and cruel.

I first started playing Civilization sometime around 1993, and was immediately addicted and obsessed. The initial version was, of course, terribly crude and clunky by today's standards, and the artificial intelligence of my computer opponents was at best mediocre. Nevertheless, the game had intrinsic appeal. It not only required a knowledge of strategy, it demanded a deeper knowledge of how civilizations come into power, how they maintain it once they have it, how they expand it, and -- if incautious or cowardly -- how they lose it. Like Game of Thrones or The Sopranos, it was as much a study of power as a thing-in-itself as it was a form of entertainment. And it taught its lessons in the most brutal way possible: by punishing ignorance, mistakes and failures without mercy. Success meant survival, failure meant destruction.

As the years went by, Civilization became more sophisticated and nuanced, and the computerized opponents more intelligent. Features were added or expanded; other features were removed or replaced. But the basic nature of the game remained unchanged. Simply put, it was this:

Beginning in the stone age, you were tasked with building a civilization, expanding it, acquiring strategic resources, raising its level of technology, keeping your people happy, negotiating trade deals, building infrastructure, and protecting yourself from the aggression of hostile barbarian tribes and unfriendly nations. If successful, your society would last until the end of the game, roughly 4,000 years after it began. So you started with stone clubs and bearskins and ended with atomic bombs and orbiting satellites. How you achieved that end was up to you. Players had choices in styles of government, and they also had choices in foreign policy. But -- and this was key -- they also had to react to the choices of their neighbors. The computer played different rival civilizations in different ways. Some were outwardly friendly and simply wanted to trade, others were aggressive and bullying and preferred to take what they wanted by force of arms. Some were scientifically bent, some crazy about trade, and others concerned only with war. And some were unpredictable -- or simply treacherous. As I said above, playing Civilization did not require a tutorial: it was a tutorial. A completely amoral one. The human player had nearly absolute power over his society and was largely free to craft a strategy and a policy entirely in keeping with his own personality. Sometimes vice was punished; sometimes it was rewarded. Sometimes virtue led to downfall, other times to triumph. There was no right answer that covered every situation. Whatever worked was right. The goal was not to achieve some Platonic "ideal plane" but simply to survive -- and thrive. At any cost.

By playing Civilization, I came to see that while every form of government was represented -- despotism, monarchism, feudalism, republicanism, democracy, fasicsm, communism -- their ultimate ambitions remained the same. And when one's ambitions are the same, one's methods tend toward sameness. In 25 years of playing various iterations of the game, I began to grasp that its ongoing popularity stems from the fact that, when you scrape away all the rhetoric, there's nothing to distinguish a good campaign of Civ from a study of human history. Literally almost nothing. All the horror, all the carnage, all the cruelty and misery, all the seemingly needless tension and confrontation between nations and tribal groups, the complete inability of those nations and groups to act in unity even on issues of seemingly mutual interest, such as pollution or climate change...it's all here. So here, in a nutshell, is what I learned:

1. Resources are everything. In Civilization, there are strategic resources which are beneficial for the populace -- fish, for example, or game, or gold. There are others which are beneficial to trade, such as dyes, jewels, wines, or furs. But there are certain resources such as iron, horses, saltpeter, coal, rubber, oil, aluminium and uranium, which are indispensible to warfare. Iron makes swords and armor; saltpeter makes gunpowder; coal fires warships; oil fuels tanks and aircraft. In ancient times, the society which has access to things like iron has a huge advantage over societies stuck in the stone/bronze age; thus, the early phase of the game is a scramble for iron, and for horses to provide chariots. Later, as technology advances, different resources come into play, and so the scramble never ceases. Today's civ with the best swordsmen and archers and horsemen is mowed down tomorrow by the musketeers, rifleman and infantry of the society that first acquired gunpowder. Trade is always an option, but only a fool or a desperate king indeed trades away resources that can be used to slit his throat at a later time, and so an aggressive foreign policy is usually necessary, lest a nation fall behind in that never-ceasing quest for the earth's riches. In short, those who have, dominate, and those who have not, steal -- or die.

2. All alliances are of convenience. In world history, countries speak of "friendship" and "cultural bonds" and "international brotherhood." In Civilization, any nation that offers friendship either does so because they wish to trade (you have something they want, but can't or don't want to take it by force), or because they are weak and fear offending you, or because they are at war with a third power and hope to enlist you in the fight against them. Friendships in Civilization are transactional and never last longer than necessity dictates. Today's generous trade deal and mutual protection pact is tomorrow's unprovoked sneak attack. There is no loyalty and no gratitude. From a leader's POV, the world is divided into "threats" and "assets." There is no extra category for "buddies."

3. Technology is mainly for killing. All technological advancements lead to corresponding improvements in quality of life for the people. Granaries, aqueducts, hospitals, mass transit systems, etc., etc. are all wonderful for John Q. Public. On the other hand, the very first use of any new technology usually has a military application. Iron makes great tools: it also makes fine swords. Coal builds warm fires: it also fuels battleships. A nucelar power plant can light up a city; a nuclear bomb can flatten one. The first priority of a leader is to make sure his Civ has all the best weaponry technology can afford. Benefits to society are a secondary consideration, and any society that reverses this model and puts sanitation, medicine, infrastructure, etc. ahead of making barracks and handing out rifles will soon find itself invaded by a Civ with a different set of priorities. On the other hand, a society which doesn't feed its scientific research and build universities and so forth will not produce competetive technology, and it too will go down in flames. Leadership is a balancing act between guns and butter, brains and brawn. But ultimately, the nation that doesn't find a way to make a microchip lethal ain't gonna last.

4. There is no mercy. Just as there is no real friendship in world society, there is also no mercy in world affairs. In trade, one must drive the hardest possible bargain. In war, one must make the most rapacious demands the enemy will accept. In diplomacy, one must pile on alliances for the purpose of carving up once prosperous rivals like roasts. Why? Because this is what your opponents will do. They will never give you what you want in trade without demanding much more than it is worth. They will never offer peace terms in war which you would wish to accept. They will never hesitate to build multinational alliances to destroy you, and they will never hesitate to frustrate your ambitions in passive ways -- by hemming in your borders, colonizing resource-rich areas you covet for yourself, refusing to trade needed items, or signing trade embargos with your enemies. Act ruthlessly in your strength because you will be treated pitilessly in your weakness. And never forget the enemy you spare today will be at your throat again tomorrow. As Clauswitz once wrote, "The mistakes that come from kindness are the very worst."

5. Wars are like fires: starting one doesn't mean you can put it out. Nothing is easier than starting a war. However, once war is engaged, you may find the fighting going against you, and seek to make peace once again. Or you may achieve your limited objectives and seek to end hostilities before your army takes too many losses or your opponent bribes a third party to come in on his side. In either case, you may discover your enemy in no mood to come to the treaty table, what with the fact you burned down six of his cities, robbed him of his best agricultural land, and cut him off from the ocean. War is necessary in Civilization, but it should never be carried out offensively unless you have a) a clear idea how you plan to win it, b) contingency plans if things go badly, c) can afford to lose all the men you commit to the initial battle. Rulers always see war as the easy way out of economic or political troubles, without considering they may actually lose. Just ask Napoleon. Or Mussolini. Or Putin.

6. Conquest is easy (occupation is not). In Civilization, capturing an enemy city doesn't mean the local population wants a change of master. They will always be discontented, may riot, may even openly revolt and overthrow your rule. I have had to burn occupied cities to the ground and leave nothing but electronic ashes because I couldn't get the natives to recognize my claim on their land and their lives. There are limits to what pure military force can accomplish. The stick must be accompanied by a carrot. Pure power must be balanced with some kind of appeasement. Otherwise you will simply end up with a case of tyrannical indigestion, the inability to absorb what you have conquered. The practical alternative, genocide, is not appetizing even for a video game, though it does solve the larger problems posed by occupation. This leads me to...

7. Karma is consequence, not judgment. There is no morality in Realpolitik, but actions do have practical repercussions. Violating peace treaties without cause, betraying alliances, employing atomic weapons, burning down cities, etc. are all great ways to become an international pariah. The computer has a long memory for treachery, and today's actions of amoral convenience are tomorrow's moral retributions. The funny thing about being totally amoral -- neither good nor evil but simply opportunistic -- is that it does not spare you the consequences of your decisions. This applies not merely to warfare but to the environment as well. Chopping down forests, draining wetlands, using coal-fired factories, dropping A-bombs...all of this comes back to haunt you.

8. In for a penny, in for a pound. When two armies have exhausted each other without decisive results, the natural inclination for both sides is to make peace. This is the height of foolishness. No matter what the cost, it is necessary to keep fighting until you have broken the enemy's army -- broken his ability to keep an offensive-capable army in the field. To make peace while he still has a functioning fighting force means that he will inevitably reinforce himself and attack you while you too are rearming, and lock you in a perpetual cycle of starting over again. This is the reason why Ukraine has laughed off any suggestion of making peace with Russia. It must keep fighting until Russia's ability not merely to wage war, but to wage another war, is shattered.

9a. Government adapts itself to suit necessity. Playing Civilization in a "human" manner, i.e. adopting a democratic government, seeking trade and negotiation, etc., is all well and good until it is necessary to start a pre-emptive war: say, to deny a rival access to uranium. But since the population of a democratic country doesn't like pre-emptive wars (or even large militaries), it may be necessary for the player to overthrow his own government and institute a fascist or communist dictatorship, one in which public opinion is irrelevant.

10. Ultimately, no law, pact, treaty or code of ethics which threatens your survival will itself survive contact with harsh reality. A person who, in real life, abominates war and militarism, bemoans huge defense budgets, is environmentally conscious, preaches for social justice, etc., etc. will immediately become the most bloodthirsty and ruthless tyrant imaginable when handed the electronic reins of power. He will betray allies, bomb defenseless towns, massacre captured workers, conduct scorched-earth policies, launch nuclear missiles. Part of this comes from the fact that the killing in Civilization is, of course, not real killing, any more than the violence in a novel or a television show is real. But a significant part of it comes from the fact that ideology seldom stands up in the face of necessity. Pacifism is an easy stance to adopt when no one is actually trying to kill you. Environmental responsibility is common sense right up to the moment the alternative to burning coal is freezing to death. Civilization is a great counter to the clever, smirky, debate-society arguments, because it puts all the power in your hands and then says, "The enemy is at the gates. They refuse to negotiate. What will you do?"

You may think all of this is horrible. That these are manifestly not the lessons people need to be taught about world affairs, especially given the generally awful state of the world today. That maybe a game should be designed which only rewarded the most moral, the most ethical, the most benificent and merciful decisions. There is, after all, nowhere near enough compassion in the world, nowhere near enough empathy, and it would be grand if we could artificially stimulate a previously numb area of our brains and coax a greater affinity for these things. And I am all for such a game. But the stark fact is that the appeal of Civilization lies mainly in the fact that it is not a game. It is a reasonably accurate, if stripped-down-to-its-essentials reflection of the world we actually live in. To succeed in playing Civ is to demonstrate, to a small degree, the qualities necessary to succeed in the real world. This in itself is perhaps appalling, but that does not make it less true. As Sergeant Barnes opined in PLATOON, "There's the way it oughta be...and there's the way it is."

This, then, is what I learned playing Civilization. You may not like it, but if you can play a few rounds of this game and not come away with a better understanding of why nations do such cruel, destructive and ugly things, and why even vastly different forms of government often make startlingly similar errors in judgment, chances are you're either deluded or just very, very thick.