Reality Is Just a Game Now And we’re all losing. Jon Askonas ✦ A Fun Collaborative Activity ✦ Read the list of statements below. 1. Covid-19 escaped from a Chinese laboratory. 2. Climate change demands a radical transformation of modern lifestyles. 3. Donald Trump colluded with Vladimir Putin to get elected. 4. The real founding of the American project was not in 1776 but in 1619. 5. The FBI investigation into the Trump campaign was based on lies. 6. The Defund the Police movement caused a crime spike in American cities. 7. Kyle Rittenhouse did nothing wrong. For each statement, write down whether it is true or false, and whether the issue is very important or not that important. Pick the friend whose political beliefs are most different from yours, and to whom you are still willing to speak. Ask your friend to complete the questionnaire too. Explain to this friend why his or her answers are insane. Audio: Listen to this article. Available only to New Atlantis and Apple News+ subscribers. A Strange Game On the recent twentieth anniversary of 9/11, I reflected on how I would tell my children about that day when they are older. The fact of the attacks, the motivations of the hijackers, how the United States responded, what it felt like: all of these seemed explicable. What I realized I had no idea how to convey was how important television was to the whole experience. From the Special Series: Reality: A Post-Mortem What Happened to Consensus Reality? Reality Is Just a Game Now How Stewart Made Tucker Everyone talks about television when remembering that day. For most Americans, “where you were on 9/11” is mostly the story of how one came to find oneself watching it all unfold on TV. News anchors Dan Rather, Peter Jennings, and Tom Brokaw, broadcasting without ad breaks, held the nation in their thrall for days, probably for the last time. It is not uncommon for survivors of the attacks to mention in interviews or recollections that they did not know what was going on because they did not view it on TV.If you ask Americans when was the last time they recall feeling truly united as a country, people over the age of thirty will almost certainly point to the aftermath of 9/11. However briefly, everyone was united in grief and anger, and a palpable sense of social solidarity pervaded our communities.Today, just about the only thing everyone agrees on is how divided we are. On issue after issue of vital public importance, people feel that those on the other side are not merely wrong but crazy — crazy to believe what they do about voter ID, Russiagate, critical race theory, pronouns and gender affirmation, take your pick. Americans have always been divided on important issues, but this level of pulling-your-hair-out, how-can-you-possibly-believe-that division feels like something else. Dan Rather (CBS), Tom Brokaw (NBC), and Peter Jennings (ABC)It is hard to imagine how we would have experienced 9/11 in the era of Facebook and Twitter, but the pandemic provides a suggestive example. Just as in 2001, in 2020 we faced a powerful external threat and had a government willing to meet it. But instead of unity, American society has experienced tremendous fragmentation throughout the pandemic. Beginning with whether banning foreign travel or using the label “Wuhan virus” was racist, to later mask mandates, school closures, lockdowns, and vaccine requirements, we googled, shared, liked, and blocked our way apart. Nobody was tuning in to the same broadcast anymore.Of course, we have heard no end of laments for the loss of the TV era’s unity. We hear that online life has fragmented our “information ecosystem,” that this breakup has been accelerated by social division, and vice versa. We hear that alienation drives young men to become radicalized on Gab and 4chan. We hear that people who feel that society has left them behind find consolation in QAnon or in anti-vax Facebook groups. We hear about the alone-togetherness of this all.What we haven’t figured out how to make sense of yet is the fun that many Americans act like they’re having with the national fracture.Take a moment to reflect on the feeling you get when you see a headline, factoid, or meme that is so perfect, that so neatly addresses some burning controversy or narrative, that you feel compelled to share it. If it seems too good to be true, maybe you’ll pull up Snopes and check it first. But you probably won’t. And even if you do, how much will it really help? Everyone else will spread it anyway. Whether you retweet it or just email it to a friend, the end effect on your network of like-minded contacts — on who believes what — will be the same. Christian Watson “Confirmation bias” names the idea that people are more likely to believe things that confirm what they already believe. But it does not explain the emotional relish we feel, the sheer delight when something in line with our deepest feelings about the state of the world, something so perfect, comes before us. Those feelings have a lot in common with how we feel when our sports team scores a point or when a dice roll goes our way in a board game.The unity we felt watching the news unfold on TV gave way to the division we feel watching events unfold online. We all know that social media has played a part in this. But we should not overestimate its impact, because the story is much bigger. It is a story about the shifting foundations of reality itself — a story in which you and I are playing along. ✦ The White Rabbit Appears ✦ Hello again. I hope you and your friend are still on speaking terms after our fun collaborative activity. Now let’s try something completely different. Follow me, if you will, into dreamland. Last week, I saw an ad for a movie in the newspaper, with an old clock in the background. But something was funny about it. The numbers were off — 2, 0, 2, 7…. Could this be a phone number? I tried dialing the first ten numbers, and got an automated message of a woman’s voice in a nebulous accent reading another series of numbers. I have been pulling at the thread ever since. I did some digging and found out that I’ve stumbled on a kind of game: an alternate reality game. I’m guessing you may not have heard of them? Alternate reality games are a lot like reading Agatha Christie or Sue Grafton or watching Sherlock. There is something deeply satisfying about unraveling a mystery story when we’re taken in by it. No one has really been murdered, but we still feel suspense until the puzzle is solved. A good mystery writer will hide the clues in plain sight. She doesn’t have to do that. She could just describe how the detective solves the case. But she does it because she knows that we want to see if we can figure it out ourselves! Now what if you could do more than just follow along with the story? What if you could actually be the detective? Say you notice a clue and you figure out what it means, and it tells you to look for a hidden message in a classified ad in tomorrow’s newspaper. The message tells you to go to a local bakery tomorrow at noon to find another clue. That’s what happens in an alternate reality game. It’s a story that you play along with in the real world. It’s like an elaborate scavenger hunt, on the Internet and in real life, with millions of other people all over the world playing along too. Speaking of which, I have a hunch what the numbers from the lady on the phone mean, but I can’t say anything else on an open channel. If you want to help us solve the puzzle, our Signal chat link is ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛. The Q Game During the Trump era, as a wider swath of people began to pay attention to the online right, a group of game designers noticed disturbing parallels between QAnon, with its endlessly complex conspiracy theories, and their own game creations. Most notably, in the summer of 2020, Adrian Hon, designer of the game Perplex City, wrote a widely shared Twitter thread and blog post drawing parallels between QAnon and alternate reality games.