Fortnite: A Pediatrician Mom’s perspective

Fortnite: A Pediatrician Mom’s Perspective

When I came home and saw my son on the couch playing a video game, I was not surprised.  He is an avid basketball player and plays NBA2K regularly.  I remain in awe of NBA2K- I can stand on the other side of my living room and it looks like we have a basketball game on the TV screen. The designers have captured the gestures and mannerisms of individual players, and the gait analysis is remarkably true to life.   Add in fun music, voice-overs of favorite commentators with a sense of humor, and it’s a stellar combo of online competition, intentional team building, creativity, and playfulness.    I often pause to admire it. Imagine what advances we could make if the financial power of the NBA, Hollywood, and Silicon Valley were applied so innovatively to solve leading problems in science, medicine, and education.  I remain hopeful that the likes of Spike Lee and Mark Zuckerberg will lead us to technology that expands our insights as humans in community. These forms of technology may stimulate us to think beyond our own concept of reality- whether through artistic storytelling or imaginative graphics and whether presented as gaming, family fun, or as a passageway to exploration and reflection about the world beyond our immediate horizon. 

But that afternoon, I realized that my son was not playing his usual NBA2K.  He was playing a game that involved shooting with machine guns and chasing and killing characters.   I asked him what he was playing.  “Fortnite,” he replied.   He was playing online against his best friend.  I knew what the game was.  I had coached the 8^th grade boys’ basketball team, and at practices some of the boys talked about aspects of the game. Likewise, several of the moms had asked me whether my son was playing it and what I thought of it.  They expressed deep concern over it, but nonetheless had allowed their sons to play because it seemed “less horrible than Call of Duty.”   Some of the fathers also expressed concern about the violence but had chosen to exert their supervision by playing it with their son and then limiting their online time.

“You may finish this game,” I said.  “But after that I would like to have a conversation about this.”   My teenage son was well aware of my feelings about gun violence and its impact on children in America.  From the time he was 4 years old, he could explain that he was not allowed to play with guns, because his mom, who is a kids’ doctor, had taken care of lots of children who had been killed by guns.  Guns were not toys, and killing was not a game.  Real kids get hurt by guns.   

So I knew he had made this choice consciously to fit in with what his classmates were doing.
He came into my room a few minutes later. 
“Mom, just because I play a game doesn’t mean I’m going to go out and kill someone.”
“I know.  Thank goodness you have a better head on your shoulders than that. And so do your friends.  But there are also clear studies that show that kids who play more of those games do exhibit more violent behavior.”
“Mom, why do you have to be so melodramatic?  It’s just a game.”
“OK, tell me about the game.  What’s it actually about? What happens in it, and what’s the goal of the game?
“It starts with a bunch of people on an island. You chase each other around obstacles and try to kill the others off until only one person is left on the island.”
“So do you think that game fits in with who we are as a family and what we value in the world?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean- do you think that kill everyone off, ‘last man standing’ approach is what our family is about?”
“No, of course not.  Don’t you trust that I can understand the difference between this game and real life?”
“Well I appreciate your insight.  The fact that you can articulate these distinctions and have a thoughtful conversation is why I didn’t’ just walk over and turn it off right away.”
“So why are you upset about it?”
“Did you actually think for a moment that I wouldn’t be upset about it?  You know already how I feel about gun violence.  Think about what you just told me about the primary aim of this game.  This is our home. Why would you think it would be ok to play around about gun violence in our home?”
“I know. I know…..  You have taken care of lots of people who died because of gun violence….”
“Exactly.  So I want you to think hard about this.  Because I trust your judgment, I am not going to forbid it right now.  But I want you to really think about whether this game fits in with our family’s values.”
“Ok.”
“Don’t you think you and your friends are getting sucker punched by the makers of this game?”
“What do you mean?”
“They are trying to lead you to believe that the way to be men is to kill and to be the last one standing.  I have more faith in you guys than that.  You are smart, creative, caring, and strong boys.  You all have a lot of leadership qualities.  I have seen it on the basketball court and around school.  I hope you and your friends will use those many talents and not just get suckered into a narrow view of yourselves and the world, while some video game makers make a lot of money off you.” 
We left it alone after that and got ready for bed.

Three days later, the Parkland shootings happened.
Teenagers, the age of my son and his classmates, organized marches around the country.  He and I attended the one in San Francisco- it was the first time my son had been part of a rally or march.  Like most of the crowd, he grew tearful when survivors of other school shootings spoke.   He marched carrying a sign: “Gun violence is a public health issue.” He hasn’t mentioned Fortnite again.   He’s back to relaxing with NBA2K.

Last week, I heard a piece on NPR about parents who were hiring tutors for their kids so they could perform better in Fortnite.  Their kids felt inadequate and ostracized when they got beaten all the time.  The parents wanted to boost their kids’ confidence, so they paid hundreds of dollars for gaming tutorials. 
As a pediatrician and a mother, here’s my perspective.
Fortnite, stop sucker punching our boys.  

Parents, our boys don’t need tutoring in carnage; they need role models and inspiration.  Talk to them about what matters to your family, whose shoulders they stand on, and how much you believe in them even when they don’t yet believe in themselves.
The men in my family and in my community are dairy farmers, who nurture animals and the land,
doctors, who heal and enhance our well-being,
engineers, who build useful structures and innovative devices,
teachers, who develop our intellect and spark wonder,
businessmen and county commissioners, who brainstorm wise use of community resources,
Marines, who protected innocent citizens from genocide, and
artists, who create beauty.

Silicon Valley IT leaders and gamers, show some respect for our boys.  Invest in their potential.  Offer phenomenal graphics, special powers to acquire, teams or communities to unite, space for exploration, and diverse avatars for trying out alternative identities.  Make us belly laugh when we play together.  Dream up the most fun ever.

With a perspective,

Gail Wright, MD