Game On!

Game On!
Tech.edu
A Hopkins Series on Education and Technology
Game On!
Gamification, Gameful Design, and the
Rise of the Gamer Educator
Kevin Bell
JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY PRESS BALTIMORE

© 2018 Johns Hopkins University Press
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-P ublication Data
Names: Bell, Kevin, 1968–author.

Title: Game on! : gamification, gameful design, and the rise of the
gamer educator / Kevin Bell.
Description: Baltimore : Johns Hopkins University Press, 2017. | Series:
Tech.edu : a Hopkins series on education and technology | Includes
bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017009944 | ISBN 9781421423968
(hardcover : alk. paper) | ISBN 1421423960 (hardcover : alk. paper) |
ISBN 9781421423975 (electronic) | ISBN 1421423979 (electronic)
Subjects: LCSH: Education, Higher—Effect of technological
innovations on. | Education, Higher—Computer-assisted
instruction. | Internet in higher education. | Gamification. |
Computer games. | Educational games. | BISAC: EDUCATION /
Higher. | GAMES / Video & Electronic. | EDUCATION /
Computers & Technology.
Classification: LCC LB2395.7 .B45 20107 | DDC 378.1/7344678—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017009944
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Calling out one person in no way diminishes my appreciation of
the large number of people who have supported and encouraged
me through the production of this work. However, I dedicate it
officially to my dad, Michael Bell, who taught in some pretty rough
inner-city schools in the UK, motivating students that o
thers had
given up on. Contextualizing through his loves of literature, m
usic,
and (proper) football, he gamified spelling tests in the 1970s with
leaderboards, promotions, and relegations, intrinsically motivating
kids steeped in the highs and lows of supporting Newcastle
United—the greatest team in the history of all sports ever.
Dad claims to understand next to nothing of my writings yet
embodies the spirit and principle of the very best educators: those
who inspire and change lives. Thanks fatha.
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Contents
Acknowledgments ix
Prologue. Ashton to Apple —The Breakout Year 1
1 A Societal Imperative: The Impetus for Online Education 5
2 How Did We Get Here? The Maturation of Online Education 20
3 The Fairy Tale MOOC 44
4 The Hero’s Journey 71
5 Ethical Decision Making 94
6 Dungeons and Discourse 111
7 Threat of Crime and Terrorism 131
8 Assessing Gamification: Conclusions and Implications 150
9 Catching Fire: The Model That Burned Brightest 168
Captain’s Epilogue 183
Bibliography 189
Index 197
Acknowledgments
As is traditional, way too many p

eople to list h
ere, but I’ll give it a go.
Two p
eople went beyond the call of duty or friendship to help me with
this work.
My dissertation chair, Dr. Laura Perna, provided unreasonably prompt and
helpful feedback on the executive doctorate program at the University of Penn-
sylvania. A gamefully designed, intrinsically motivating goal of mine was to
get my work to a level where I would get feedback on a draft with fewer than
100 comments, tweaks, or suggestions from her. It never happened. Even
from Kazakhstan when technically offline, she spent precious time bringing
her laser focus to bear, sending me significant (as in p-value less than 0.05,
causing me to reject the null hypothesis) support. Thank you, Laura.
Robert Rosenbalm, b
ecause of geeky interest in the subject area and by be-
ing what I would simply call a great bloke, tirelessly and again, punctually,
reviewed chapter drafts with an editor’s eye, a pedant’s accuracy, and a friend’s
sensitivity. His mantra for this work and the changes that were happening in
my life at the time—“You got this”—became my comfort blanket, my mulli-
gan, and/or my incentive to keep going. Thank you, Robert.
The book would be nothing without the input and reflections of the prac
titioners whose work and energy drove the cases. Massive thanks to some of
the most inspiring and generous educators I have ever met—Drs. Neil Niman,
Kevin Yee, and Gerol Petruzella and Fred Aebli and Greg Andres; I hope your
work, even to a small degree via this book, gets you the recognition and unlim-
ited quarters you all deserve.
I mention my dad, Michael Bell, in the dedication, and again h
ere, for the
balance and background he and my mum, Jean, provided: raising my brother
and me with a blend of culture, academia, sport, m
usic, love of reading, and
a carefree, insulated start to our lives. Thank you both so much.
A shout-out to Cohort 12 at Penn, a supremely talented and intelligent
group. Swimming in that gene pool was exhilarating, made more so by the
unequivocal support, humo(u)r, empathy, and friendship provided along the
way—many thanks and egészségére.
x Acknowledgments
Professionally, Northeastern University was a solid base, and people there

were great supporters of the doctoral work that led to this book. Thank you to
(former dean) John LaBrie, (SVP/CEO) Philomena Mantella, and, for cheerlead-
ing and the occasional “pint,” Peter Stokes, Bryan Lackaye, and Kat Hitchcock.
Finally, most importantly, thanks to my wife and family for allowing
me the time and space to work on this book. Sorry I missed the occasional
recital, show, or hiking trip, but I hope this work makes you a little bit proud.
Diane, Shay, Téah, and Rhianna—thanks for making my life so full and apol-
ogies in advance for the Gorf refurbished video arcade cabinet unit that w
ill
arrive soon to celebrate book completion day.
Stay in touch, old friends and new:

Twitter: @kbell14; blog: kevinbell@wordpress.c om; other social media chan-
nels. Or just come in person and see the kangas outside my office at Western
Sydney University, where I serve at the DVC-A’s discretion.
Game On!
Prologue
A S H T O N T O A P P L E — T H E B R E A K O U T Y E A R
The year 1978 was interesting for many reasons. Two popes, Paul VI and John
Paul I, died within six weeks of each other, while, just before the pontifical
passing, both Ashton Kutcher and James Franco were born. The Bee Gees, col-
lectively and solo (Andy Gibb), dominated the US charts with six number-one
songs, but without doubt the most significant pop-culture event of the year was
Taito Corporation’s launch of Tomohiro Nishikado’s arcade game Space Invaders.
By way of a tribute to a popular Japanese song of the time, Nishikado titled
it Space Monsters before his bosses at Taito made him change it to スペースイ
ンベーダー : Supēsu Inbēdā transcribed into the Katakana used for imported
western words in Japanese; Space Invaders in full-on western English. One,
now somewhat debunked, part of the mystique around the game’s popularity
in Japan was that it caused a national shortage of the 100-yen coin, forcing
the government to t riple production. Note for readers born in the last 20 to
25 years: everyone used to go to arcades and put coins in slots in the antedi-
luvian days before PlayStations and Xboxes were invented. While the 100-yen
shortage story is exaggerated at best, and very possibly a downright myth, the
hype made it over to the United States, where Bally’s Midway division li-
censed the game a year later. By 1982 it had grossed $2 billion, a figure that
adjusted for inflation comes close to $7.26 billion in 2016 terms. As a culturally
similar comparison point, the highest grossing movie of the late seventies
was a little flick by the name of Star Wars. George Lucas’s first of three, six,
seven, many Star Wars adventures banked a cool $486 million. Impressive—but
somewhat less so when compared to the success of Space Invaders. The movie
made less than a quarter of the revenue of the arcade game. Bear in mind that
each game interaction generated one single quarter—around one-tenth of
the transaction charge ($2.53) of g
oing to the movies in the late seventies.
Maybe it didn’t quite cause a shortage at the US mint, but that’s almost surely
enough quarters to take down the Death Star.
2 Game On!
Before 1978, worldwide arcade options had been limited to pinball, pool,
or the occasional feisty game of bingo. Pong and Breakout were the height of
late-seventies technological sophistication. Atari’s Nolan Bushnell developed
the two-dimensional table-tennis paddle game Pong in 1972, while two guys
he hired developed Breakout on a $750 budget. One of them, Steve Jobs, alleg-
edly pocketed extra bonuses that were generated by his and the other Steve’s
(that’d be Wozniak) speed and particularly ability to code efficiently using a
minimal number of transistor–transistor logic (TTL) chips. It’s interesting to
surmise whether this duplicity ever came up as they combined to found a
company (Apple, Inc.) that would eventually be valued at over $700 billion
(the first company to break that mark) in early 2015. In a serendipitous clos-
ing of this initial narrative loop, Ashton Kutcher, born in Space Invaders’ year
zero, portrayed Jobs in the 2013 movie featuring his name. It has to be said,
the film, Jobs, generated a fraction of the revenue of e ither Star Wars or Space
Invaders—perhaps by missing a key opportunity in failing to feature James
Franco as Wozniak.
As a side note: First reported back in 2008, but still rumored to be on the
way, Leonardo DiCaprio was primed to star as Nolan Bushnell in the movie
Atari. According to the 2008 press release: “There’s a lot of ground to cover:
Bushnell co-founded Atari in 1972 on $500, hired Steve Jobs and Steve Woz-
niak as early employees, and sold the company six years later for $28 million
to Warner Communication after inventing the Atari 2600 and the addictive
arcade game Pong” (Hart 2008). Art imitates life.
Getting back to gamification, gameful design, and related ephemera, fast
forward to 2014-15-16, as Star Wars once again leaps back into pop culture,
this time as TM property of The Mouse (Disney). Members of Generation X, t hose
born between 1964 and 1981, are gaining responsibility and autonomy. Now
midcareer, they provide an interesting anthropological study of the first video
arcade generation to come of age. They have taken on roles in society with a
degree of self-determination and authority, and yet they seem to maintain a
desire to play, to make a difference, and—dammit—maybe even to save the
world from the Gorfian Empire.
Narrowing to the world of academe, many of t hese Gen Xers have tenure
now, while others are associate deans or vice provosts. As a result of their
growing seniority they have job security and perhaps even a degree of au-
tonomy to set their own agenda. Despite academic (leading to fiscal and be-
yond, by extension, to societal) success, likely enough to sate the appetites of
Ashton to Apple 3
non-earth-defending mortals, many of these Space Invader champions, Pac

Man wizards, Galaxian gods, or Gorfian Space Avengers express disappoint-
ment with their lot. They are saddened to see students who seem listless or
disengaged, do the minimum to get by, and lack basic intrinsic motivation
for their studies. These defenders of the galaxy / guardians of the gradebook
wonder if they might provide some sort of spark of motivation or illustration
of how fun it can be to achieve. It is a challenge, as it has always been, for
older educators, let’s say mid-40s and up (Gen X), to get through to or con-
nect with their much younger, culturally shifted students. In terms of trying
to be down with the kids, or even relating to students in their late 20s / early
30s—
what we could call “posttraditional” (older)—
most instructors
don’t
risk trying to relate through m
usic or pop culture. One instructor’s comment,
“I have sweaters older than these kids,” provides a succinct summary of the
challenge of finding shared experience or even shared context for those from
only narrowly different generations.
So, this is where we start to jump into the crossover world of game princi
ples being applied to education and pedagogy. Is this the opportunity to
achieve empathy through shared experience or shared experience through
decontextualized (or recontextualized) teaching and learning? When wit-
nessing the commitment that twenty-to thirty-somethings have to their
phone screens, whether interacting socially or playing games, the question
arises w
hether that commitment (the intrinsic motivation to interact, en-
gage, and spend time on task) might be somehow transported to their educa-
tion and their own futures. It is worth noting that this age group actually
plays mobile games less than Gen X. They “over-index” (do more of it than
other age groups) in sports, health and fitness, music, media and entertain-
ment, lifestyle, and shopping. To put it another way, they are intrinsically
motivated to interact more with apps and media that almost certainly have
gameful elements built in beneath a nongame interface. They are engaging
with apps and content in general, just not as much (compared to other
groups) with mobile games. This is worth bearing in mind when we come
back to the w
hole educational games / gamification / gameful design ques-
tions l ater in the text.
Nonetheless, the forty-something educators, perhaps still engaging on the
sly with Candy Crush, Hay Day, or Flappy Bird, recall the heady cocktail of ac-
tion and challenge that maximized their engagement when young. Gaming
while hours flew by, for as long as the quarters (or 100-yen coins) lasted, a
4 Game On!
high score list securing their legacy in eternity or at least until someone reset
the system. As touched on above, while their motivation to enhance educa-
tion could be 100% altruistic, perhaps they are also channeling their own
careerist angst or even boredom. Their positions are safe. They have paid
their dues. Their first 20 years of workplace genuflection and conformity
have bought them respect and the trust of their higher-ups, allowing them to
experiment a bit. Their motivation may be to try stuff and kick the prover-
bial tires of their c areer vehicle. The chance of their getting “hauled to the
dean’s office” or even monitored (at least until something g
reat—or terrible—
happens) is minimal. The sanctity of the closed classroom door or even the
perceived sense of self-
direction in online/hybrid classes is encouraging
them to reinvent and try t hings in a different, not-chalk-and-talk, manner.
These instructors could certainly be accused of being self-indulgent or even
narcissistic. Might they be d
oing these things to make their own lives and
careers less formulaic? Does this constitute taking risks with their students’
education? Surely it would be safer to stick to the tried and trusted. Then
again, nihilistic texts like Arum and Roska’s Academically Adrift (2011) have
claimed that almost half of students in their sample (more than 2,300 stu-
dents at 24 institutions were sampled) demonstrated no significant improve-
ment in a range of skills including critical thinking, complex reasoning, and
writing during their first two years of college. This suggests that the bar is
effectively very low. In true Pong fashion, the ball is back in the educators’
court. What damage can they really do? Why shouldn’t they experiment
with emerging theories for teaching and learning? Why not have a degree of
fun? Why not even add uncertainty and risk to their (and their students’)
daily lives? Why shouldn’t the “kids” get a window on the fact that we used to
be cool way back when? Retro is in.
Given the ubiquity of social media and easily implementable technology,
is it so wrong for t hese instructors to simply contemplate having fun in the
remaining 20 years of their careers? If it d
oesn’t really change stuff—no
harm, no foul. If they happen to reinvent, disrupt, or evolve American and
global higher education, then so be it.
Who knows, the force might just be with them—get some quarters, quick . . .
CHAPTER ONE
A Societal Imperative
T H E I M P E T U S F O R O N L I N E E D U C AT I O N
Before we dive headlong into how gamification (or one of its sub-branches)
might impact higher education, the questions Where? and Why? rear their
heads. To answer t hese questions, it is worth spending a few moments assess-
ing how we arrived at this juncture where higher education is having to con-
sider new formats for the delivery of their “product” in light of developing
technologies and changing requirements as we near the end of the twenty-
first century’s second decade.
There are factors that have driven us to a place where many existential
questions have emerged. Firstly, the emergence of for-profit schools between
2000 and 2005 seemed to bring a new “student as consumer” focus to the
otherw ise sleepy hollow of the admissions function within academia. Fol-
lowing that, the economic downturn from 2007 to 2012 caused a rash of
conversations that focused on “value proposition” and “key differentiators” in
places where that kind of phraseology had previously been absent. Finally, the
2012–13 massive open online course (MOOC) phenomenon drove academic
institutions that had been still in a state of denial to accept the fact that on-
line is not going away as a means of delivering education and, indeed, might
have a key societal role to play. As the millennium turned (or soon after),
universities—from smaller, fiscally challenged institutions desperate to diver-
sify revenue streams all the way up to prestigious institutions—started, for
one or all of these reasons, to question their own attitude toward online edu-
cation. The MOOC experiments conducted by Stanford, MIT, Harvard, and
others compelled many who had been hesitating to embrace any form of
online to quickly join the party. When Teresa Sullivan of the University of
Virginia was ousted by her board in June 2012 for her incrementalism, an ar-
guably sensible lack of haste in jumping on the MOOC bandwagon or devel-
oping an alternative substantive digital strategy for her institution, many
boards and presidents r eally began to pay attention.
6 Game On!
Despite rising costs of attendance, governmental and societal pressure has

grown in favor of a more inclusive intake from all demographics into some
form of higher education. Multiple attempts to ramp up alternate credential-
ing, with the exception of coding boot camps, have so far failed to generate
much interest beyond the focused attention of on-campus administrators
looking for the next big t hing. Despite many suggestions that t here may be
better ways of assessing viability of a job candidate, employers still gravitate
toward the safe proxy of a college degree, particularly one from an institutional
brand or name that they recognize. Isolated examples exist, Google being the
most quoted, of companies that go beyond or even ignore traditional qualifi-
cations, using puzzles or intelligence tests to assess candidates. Despite that,
the ticket to the middle classes and the lifetime earnings boost of a college
degree (estimated at +$900,000 for a bachelor’s degree over a high school di-
ploma and close to an additional $400,000 for a master’s degree according to
a 2012 US Census Bureau report) remains a defined period of time in a class,
a course, or a program that results in a walk across a stage and a handshake
from someone wearing a large robe and, in all likelihood, a floppy hat.
If we accept the premise that opportunity and access to the means of
procuring a diploma is a requisite of a civilized country, it becomes glaringly
apparent that traditional campuses with limited facilities and dorm space
cannot scale to deal with rising student numbers. The drive to increase the
percentage of citizens completing higher education brings into play tens of
thousands of previously unreached applicants from low socioeconomic status
(SES) backgrounds along with first-generation and minority aspirants. As the
makeup of the US melting pot evolves and, as some would say, the rich get
richer, then the increasing proportions of the target demographic coming from
these groups (low SES is a family income less than $36,000 in 2015 dollars)
has led to some commentators asking how higher education w ill accommo-
date this “New Majority” in the coming years. Adding minority, ethnically
diverse, and first-generation students to the low-SES population gets us above
the 50% mark. T
hese changing demographics sit unsteadily against a back-
drop of rising tuition costs, a sense of over-the-top facilities (climbing walls
or the campus lazy river), and either administrative bloat or rising faculty
salaries, depending on which side of that divide one sits on.
Neil Niman, professor and chair of economics at the Peter T. Paul School
of Business and Economics at the University of New Hampshire, refers to
these challenges as the “coming perfect storm in higher education” (2014, 7).
A Societal Imperative 7
His words align with t hose of management theorist Peter Drucker who calls
them, more positively, “sources of opportunity,” envisioning how they can
spur and encourage innovation. According to Drucker in his 2006 book In-
novation and Entrepreneurship, among the most common drivers for change in
any sector are “changes in demographics that drive consumer behavior and
production and distribution incongruities which arise as a result” (Soares
2013, 1).
The impending perfect storm of opportunity in higher education is clearly
driving consideration of the following incongruities:
1. The rising cost of d

oing business in higher education is coming into
obvious conflict with the need to tailor to increased numbers of
poorer or less well subsidized students.
2. The admittedly disproportionately weighted, not so very common
but perceived as significant, investment in luxurious peripheral
facilities while learners want for effective academic/social support
and mentoring. As Jane Wellman, an analyst at the College F
utures
Foundation, put it, “the symbolism of this is worse than the reality
of it” (Woodhouse 2015). Louisiana State University’s recent $85
million upgrade to its recreational facilities, including a lazy river
shaped like the letters LSU, is emblematic of this trend. The project
was funded from student recreational fees (the students are charged
$200 per person at LSU, amounting to $1,080 over a four-year
academic stay).
3. An increasing lack of student engagement and growing disenchant-
ment, manifesting itself in lower rates of course completion and
persistence to graduation.
Despite these warning signs, institutions persist with the same tools, tech-
nologies, and forms of instruction that many consider antithetical to student
interests and preferences. The company Blackboard was founded in 1997 and,
after two decades has not changed its basic functionality. While the platform’s
capabilities and features have certainly been augmented, the fundamental
read-post-respond instructor strategy and training (as conducted by a major-
ity of institutions) has, if anything, ossified. These ambiguities provide the
opportunity, or the ominous warning, suggesting business as usual (tradi-
tional education) has to be reviewed against emerging technologies, develop-
ing innovations, and disruptive means of delivery. In his joint address to
8 Game On!
Congress on February 24, 2009, President Barack Obama set a national goal

for the United States to have the highest proportion of college graduates in
the world by the year 2020. He emphasized a need to broaden the enrollment
funnel, to get around eight million more young adults on track to attaining
associate’s and bachelor’s degrees by 2020. What quickly became clear in the
postgame analysis of t hese pronouncements was that, without some form of
sustained attention and some different means of doing business, these targets
had no chance of being met. The kind of growth and scalability President
Obama was speaking of caused many to ponder the next round of challenges
layered upon those listed above.
Firstly, despite facilities enhancement, most residential campuses have nei-
ther the finances nor the infrastructure to significantly expand the physical
campus. Perfunctory dorm space development lacks the tour-guide-friendly
charm of the revamped dining hall and the climbing wall, and so this new
swell of student-customers cannot easily be accommodated on traditional resi-
dential campuses.
Secondly, many of the targeted students, being older and having more work
experience, have families and jobs that prevent them uprooting to spend
weeks, months, or years on a campus even if they wanted to.
Thirdly, even optimistic college completion rates mean that many of these
new students are absolutely and depressingly destined to fail. As the National
Center for Education Statistics report of 2013 relayed, the six-year graduation
rate for first-time students attending full time and beginning their pursuit of
a bachelor’s degree in fall 2005 was only 59% (2013, 202). In the at-risk de-
mographic groups described earlier, the rate plummets. It goes without saying
that higher education only makes a difference when participants complete
their studies. As completion rates fall, students who have dropped out with
accrued debt but no degree are in far worse shape than those who never
started at all.
Given the above, many observers have concluded that online courses sim-
ply have to play a major role in meeting t hese societal goals of producing a
qualified workforce. Online circumvents the dorm space issue, is less disruptive
for older working adults/parents, and, depending on the institution’s develop-
ment model, can be more affordable for participants. From the institution’s
perspective, online course development seems, at least at first blush, to be a
means of diversifying an academic portfolio (allowing them to grow sustain-
ably or at least not atrophy) without the need for extensions to physical
facilities. A slightly wet blanket on this otherw ise optimistic outlook is the
fact that online courses tend to retain even more poorly in comparison to
traditional face-to-face classes, particularly with inexperienced or fragile
learners. A five-year study reviewing 51,000 students conducted by the Com-
munity College Research Center at Teachers College, Columbia University in
2011 found that 8% fewer students persisted in online courses to the end of
their studies compared to those who persisted in traditional (face-to-face)
courses. Despite this obvious need for caution, the societal goal of equity and
increased access still leads many to conclude that online is the only v
iable
option for many non-traditional students. Furthermore, it seems worthwhile
to counteract the current two-tiered system, where the wealthy benefit from
a comprehensive learning experience on a traditional campus leaving the
disenfranchised to suffer through dated pedagogy and poor use of technol-
ogy online. With social media becoming an omnipresent part of most stu-
dents’ lives, with the gameful design of apps like FourSquare and the rise of
wearable technology like the Fitbit activity tracker (now mandated by Tulsa’s
Oral Roberts University of all its students), questions are increasingly being
asked as to the logic and efficacy of persevering with outdated tools and jaded
pedagogy for this engagement-hungry target audience. Backing up for a sec-
ond, Jane McGonigal, game designer and author, in her text Reality Is Broken:
Why Games Make Us Better and How They Can Change the World described how
gaming tends to make people more optimistic and helps them develop a
mindset that results in their being less likely to give up when, initially, failing
at a challenge. She uses examples of her own convalescence from a head in-
jury and how she defeated the challenges posed by her slow recuperation.
Being more optimistic and less likely to give up sound like principles that could
be quite excellent in an academic environment.
James Paul Gee, one of the earliest advocates of the potential gaming-
education nexus, writes in his seminal 2003 text, What Video Games Have To
Teach Us about Learning and Literacy (in what sounds like a moment of ex-
treme irritation), that “better theories of learning are embedded in the video
games children in elementary and particularly in high school play than in
the schools they attend” (7).
He continues, “The theory of learning in good video games fits better with
the modern, high-tech, global world of today’s children and teenagers live in
than do the theories (and practices) of learning that they see in school.” Gee
goes on to explain a further advantage of video games is that they provide
10 Game On!
integrated learning through contextualized interaction in what is, in fact, a

“material, social and cultural world.” This resonates for the contingency of tra-
ditional academics who are wedded to the internships or co-op experiences that
are typically near impossible for the new-majority student to experience.
Through use of contexts and “material, social and cultural worlds,” can we cre-
ate gameful experiences that provide opportunity for learning in contexts
that are applicable to the workplace and the next stages of life in society?
The New Majority and the (Nuanced) New Agenda
Just as societal demographic changes were beginning to manifest in the

student body, a further change, driven by philanthropic foundations, has
come into play—t hat of asking new questions to institutions and their pen-
chant for business as usual. Funders like The Bill and Melinda Gates Foun-
dation and the Davis Educational Foundation have shifted their focus from
an access agenda (2010–2013), which encouraged institutions to increase
opportunity for all to get into further education, to the roughly 2014–16
completion agenda of making sure that as many entering students as possi
ble complete their studies. This has accentuated the need for institutions not
only to reduce costs and encourage diversity but also to make education, for
their enrolled students, as “sticky” or close-to-addictive as possible. This
institutionally acknowledges the sentiment that access for students of any
stripe is futile, even counterproductive, if they merely start and then d
on’t
complete their studies. It is a weak point of the current higher education
system that, in most cases, an accumulation of 110 credit hours (10 shy of a
bachelor’s degree at many institutions) results in precisely zero qualifica-
tions with marketable value. This alignment of the access/completion chal-
lenge wedded to the new majority students, who must be supported while
lacking many of the intrinsic motivators that we typically take for granted
(supportive families, a history of higher education, affordability in some
shape or form), further supports the drive to disrupt and try something dif
ferent. In the language of many funding opportunities, the evolving target
demographic is underrepresented minorities (URM). This new designation
in its entirety includes:
• minority students whose race/ethnicity is African American, American

Indian / Alaska Native, Hispanic/Latino, or Native Hawaiian / Pacific
Islander;
• students from low income or low socioeconomic status whose

combined parental income is less than or equal to $36,000;
• first-generation college attendees whose highest parental education
level is a high school diploma or less; and
• women in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics
(STEM) fields, given their underrepresentation in t hose industries.
The STEM example actually provides one of the clearest illustrations of

the challenges for these new students and the institutions belatedly trying to
support them. A 2014 Condition of STEM report from the testing company
ACT showed that while 59% of mainstream majority students are deemed
college-ready in science, only 25% of the underserved are deemed similarly
ready. In reality, the situation is actually much worse. The bulleted character-
istics listed above have been shown to have a cumulative negative effect when
combined. In other words, students who check two of the risk boxes (for ex-
ample, low SES and first generation, or minority and low SES) score 20% lower
on benchmark tests than t hose with only one risk f actor. Students who meet
all three of these risk criteria score 34% lower, producing the sobering statis-
tic that fewer than 16.5% of first-generation, minority students from a low-
SES background are deemed college-ready for the study of science.
As the clock begins to run down on the second decade of the millennium, a
majority of states are seeing rising numbers of students from backgrounds with
significant risk factors. Even more challenging, their population comprises stu-
dents combining multiple risk factors. Loading the dice even further from a
motivational perspective,
these populations frequently have one reason to
study: the resolute and genuine attempt to better themselves against multiple
extremely stressful disincentives. T hese disincentives may include two or
more jobs, a f amily to care for, the stress of challenging circumstances, or even
the peer pressure from their own community not to persist. Even just taking
the figure above indicating likely completion rates as a base, fewer than one in
seven is likely to complete their studies. As higher education has started to
ponder whether alternative means of credentialing or disruptive models might
be feasible, co-author of The Innovative University, Clayton Christensen, discuss-
ing emerging models that might facilitate URM access and perhaps success,
clarifies that students from t hese backgrounds are not making selections that
come down to preferences between Harvard, Yale, or Stanford. These students
are g
oing to be predominantly enrolled in online courses so that they can fit in
12 Game On!
their studies between jobs or a

fter their kids are down for the night. As Chris-
tensen puts it, “The next option is nothing.”
From an instructor’s perspective, this new student demographic shift
presents new and unique challenges and typically ones they have not been
trained to cope with. In addressing these challenges with no (or minimal)
extra resources and support, an instructor most likely has one shot to engage
these fragile learners and to get them through. Given the challenges students
from URM backgrounds face, the costs they incur, and the logistical load
they carry, if they fail, they typically do not (or cannot) come back. The vast
majority of faculty, already with increasing demands on their time and skill-
set, having added instructional design, technical troubleshooting, and the
need to accommodate increased numbers of students with specific learning
challenges, are now being asked to step up further to retain these at-risk stu-
dents by any means necessary. The main, perhaps the only, consolation of this
frankly depressing background is that in a seemingly hopeless situation every
possibility is worth exploring. Perhaps this even includes trying to make games
out of learning.
James Paul Gee, referenced earlier, was one of the pioneers in aligning
specific aspects of teaching and learning with key features of successful video
games. In addition, he recognized that these aspects or elements might well
be applied to help engage t hose who, at the time of his writing, w
ere referred
to as fragile learners (particularly first-generation students). He references
three elements addressed by game designers from which he feels educators
could learn. They seem somewhat obvious, but they provide a solid initial
framework when contemplating next steps:
1. The learner must be enticed to try, even if he or she already has good
grounds to be afraid to try.
2. The learner must be enticed to put in lots of effort even if he or she
begins with little motivation to do so.
3. The learner must achieve some meaningful success when he or she has
expended t hese efforts.
Gee’s working theory was that some barriers for learning might be sur-
mountable if students can reach a state of engagement, being somehow hooked
and committed, at least u
ntil they reach a level of sophistication where the
subject matter itself becomes motivating. Unlike many second-, third-or even
fourth-generation students fortunate enough to access higher education from
middle-class backgrounds (or in my case, because I grew up in the United

Kingdom, where higher education in the mid-to-late 1980s was basically
free), emerging URM populations typically do not have the intrinsic motiva-
tors or the grit that comes of a statement like “I always knew I wanted to
attend Stanford” or even “I come from a long line of lawyers” (substitute
doctors/engineers/accountants). Gee’s fragile (or URM, in the modern no-
menclature) students—the first to venture on this high-risk of failure path—
will rarely, if ever, be overheard stating, “My mum was a Husky (or a Cardinal
or Panther—even a Terrier) so I’m g
oing to be a (Husky/Cardinal/Panther/
Terrier). In the absence of t hese kinds of intrinsic motivators, the need to be
encouraged and supported is accentuated. The possibility of meaningfully
endorsing and strengthening, even by artificial constructs, their commit-
ment might just get them over the hump and to a place where they feel that
they “belong,” from where they have a fair chance at persistence and ulti-
mately success.
Student serv ices such as advising and financial aid are valuable and neces-
sary tools in support of all students. From the instructor’s perspective, getting
back to the aging Space Avenger, the idea of trying to get students engaged by
using game experiences is germinating. If Space Invaders could, in a galaxy
and a time not that far, far away, get them out of bed and to the video arcade,
then might it get and keep students in their classrooms, or online and engaged?
Even the younger set of faculty, for whom the home-console world facilitated
a feet-up, stay-at-home philosophy, were still saving the world while caught
up in the game’s narrative, rules, and challenges and still focused and seek-
ing higher levels. Do games or (I’m going to shift at this point to) gameful
design perhaps provide a means of getting contemporary students over the
academic fear barrier, past the “I c an’t do this” or “Why did I even try?” mind-
set to participating with reduced fear of failure (a gameful element), feeling a
sense of progression or journey (another gameful element), and getting back
to e ither playing or feeling playful in class? In the most ambitious scenario,
activities are developed where students get close or closer to what is termed
a flow state, the Holy Grail scenario where engagement and challenge inter-
sect. When experiencing flow, also known as being “in the zone,” the jour-
ney of intriguing, well-structured involvement is so immersive and vital
that it produces a sense of time flowing by. Imagine the phrase, “Wow! I
spent X hours d
oing that.” Flow state is often idealized in stories of elite
sportsmen and athletes but also can be experienced by more sedentary puz-
14 Game On!
zle solvers and even, h

ere’s the hope, engaged students when activities are
well structured and challenging. See also Invaders (Space), Sudoku, Warcraft
(World of), marathon r unning (when fit) and, our goal, well-designed learn-
ing challenges.
Most US instructors, as a subset of most educators on the planet, fall a
little short of the resources, particularly fiscal, needed to build flamboyant
multimedia simulations or complex games. They have neither the budget nor
the programming support or in-k ind technical team at their disposal. For
most in the rewarding (just not financially so) world of academia, immersive
simulations of highly programmed, highly sexy and/or violent shoot-em-up
games are not on the agenda. Having established that these obvious hooks of
eye candy and gore are off the table, we, as educators, have to perhaps get
more psychological and analytical to see if we can engender a picture of en-
gagement from quite a limited palette. In some ways, it may even be a bless-
ing to not have the million-dollar multimedia budget. Where big budgets are
blown on complex, interactive “educational games” the inevitable outcomes
are: (a) the games are not very educational, (b) the education is not actually
much fun, and (c) the inability to edit or “tweak” the simulations gives them
a very limited shelf life.
Some faculty, typically but not exclusively those with some technical
background, are aware of these concerns and are looking creatively at plug-
and-play social/low-threshold technologies and asking themselves if there
might be a way to bootstrap the development or piecing together of engaging
learning resources. Cobbling together low-tech, simple activities featuring
quaintly s imple hooks and motivators that make participation less of a chore,
along with this goal of incrementally leveling the playing field for all stu-
dents, we get back to the question, soon to be r eally explored, as to w
hether
these mid-forty-somethings, the well- intentioned Space Invader geeks (nerds
before the word existed) might be able to actually relate to and hence engage
in this much more diverse, much more fragile, learner community.
Some of us clearly think it worth a try.
Engagement/Time on Task
The most v
iable means of improving student course outcomes, in turn cor-
relating with increased course completion, is to increase student engagement
or time on task. George Kuh, one of the more prominent experts in the area
of student retention, looked at how student engagement increases when stu-
dents have a background in, or know more about, a subject. He references the
value of practice, feedback, and collaborative problem solving. Student mo-
mentum tends to build, he posits, as they come to understand a subject on a
deeper level and become more motivated to continue to learn and further
explore. The primary challenge, and biggest potential, it seems, for gameful
design is in this minefield between the faltering, nervous baby steps of a new
learner (especially a new URM learner) and a student’s more confident strides
a class or two into a program, where she or he w ill likely show the more in-
formed engagement patterns of a burgeoning subject m
atter expert.
Play/Games
Given this alignment of impetuses and the logical notion to give it a go

because we have nothing to lose, play, in the most general sense of the word, is
steadily entering our face-to-face and virtual classrooms. The arcade game
instructors are playing with intrinsic motivators that they experienced as first
generation gamers in the late seventies and early eighties. Some institutions,
such as Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU) and Arizona State Uni-
versity (ASU) are exploring competency-based models that can reduce costs in
online courses through automation of feedback and support. T hese models
employ technology to help unbundle the traditional faculty role and con-
sciously support student desire for immediate, informed feedback (as they
would get from, say, a game). The economies of scale, as well as the automa-
tion and efficiency of t hese models, provide the potential for institutions to
offer online courses at significantly lower tuition rates, thus extending access
to still larger numbers of underserved and low-SES populations. In a rare pos-
itive reinforcement loop, the large numbers of these students attracted by
slick and professional marketing, no longer the exclusive purview of the for-
profits, allows institutions at scale (like SNHU in the national market) to re-
duce incremental course delivery per student costs to close to zero. There is
the concern that these kinds of semiautomated courses, termed competency-
based education (CBE), with their heavier reliance on student self-directed
study and automated feedback, might exacerbate the low completion rate is-
sue. Given the likelihood that this type of low-t uition disrupted model w ill
attract fragile learners often lacking in confidence, and the stated aim to this
effect of SNHU president Dr. Paul LeBlanc (a Clayton Christensen devotee),
intrinsic motivators and experience and attrition could indeed be a big prob
lem. LeBlanc and his team (disclaimer: I was a founding member of the
16 Game On!
original SNHU Innovation Lab), refusing to shy from the market and genuinely
aiming to support and enhance the lives and livelihoods of URM, low-SES,
and minority populations, have looked at any and all means of encouraging
these learners. As SNHU’s Executive Director for College for America, Kris
Clerkin, stated in a personal interview:
We’ve already incorporated elements of this [gamification] into the new User Inter-
face (UI). We backed off a grant involving some quite complex games, but gamifica-
tion is definitely on the radar—we think t here are lots of t hings we could do. T
here
are simple things we are already incorporating—the progress meter, measures of
activity where we measure everything students are doing in the environment that
we reward them for. Basically, measures of engagement we can reward them for, we’re
moving towards mobile, part of that is just alerts when various things happen; if
they’re off track or need encouragement, when students get their first “not yet” for
a competency. We feel that we’ve just started down this path—we’re just starting
and we feel that there’s a lot we can still do.
Technologies
In 2010, LeAnne H. Rutherford of the University of Minnesota described the

potential of interactive technologies to encourage students to engage with
course materials and take an active role in learning (Deneen 2010). This, she
demonstrated, led to elevated retention of core course concepts and under-
standing. The 2010 US Department of Education report Evaluation of Evidence-
Based Practices in Online Learning also marked time on task (or engagement
with the materials) as the key determinant affecting student success. Success,
in this case, was measured as course completion in hybrid and online classes.
It certainly seems a reasonable assertion that higher engagement should be
possible when we recall how stupidly engaging something as simple as Pong
was. A perfunctory learning management system (LMS) in 2015 had the capac-
ity to store the data of 10,000 Space Invaders machines of the basic 1978 vari-
ety. “Spacies” (1978 UK slang) was fun despite pixelated graphics and limited
interactivity. It was fun because it was a well-thought-out game. The premise
was immediately graspable (more gameful design hints), and the controls
were usable a
fter milliseconds of thought or observation of the greasy-headed
lad in the line before you. The feedback of “BOOM, you’re dead—t he Earth
is invaded,” was instant and unambiguous, while the reward, “YOU SAVED
THE EARTH” (at least u
ntil the next attack wave), was tangible. You had
collaboration (“Go on, Jimmy, shoot the bonus spaceship at the top”), you
had competition (leaderboard top score: “KB-rools,” 97,452 points), and you
had the need for concentration. The Space Invaders game was, and this state-
ment is not as redundant as it sounds, gamefully designed. Basic tenets w
ere
in place, elements that have been in place in good games, good sports, and
good books since time immemorial. The application of t hese tenets to good
education is, in many ways, long overdue.
If we accept the premise that online (to say nothing of traditional educa-
tion) is not going far enough to engage and support learners, particularly the
new mix of fragile, nervous, inexperienced, and underprepared learners,
then how should we proceed? We’ve confirmed that practically no one has
World of Warcraft money or that kind of development time ($63 million and
4.5 years, if y
ou’re wondering). Throw in marketing budgets for major game
developers or development projects and you are well over a quarter of a bil-
lion (with a b) dollars. My sense is that as educators we are unlikely to win in
a full-on simulation/interactive/full-narrative/ first-person reality game head
to head with t hese competitors. Nor should we try.
So, what is an impoverished educator to do? As practitioners, administra-
tors and faculty, despite the budget envy, surely we should be exploring all
avenues that may lead to even incremental support of student engagement
and academic success. Gameful design takes elements of what makes games,
or other forms of engagement, intriguing, boils them down to a fundamental
level, and then applies them to educational experiences. Sensible practitioners
reflect and build on t hings that good instructors do as second nature. They
challenge their students, they provide prompt and supportive feedback, they
try to reduce students’ fear of failure, and they encourage cooperation or
teamwork. T
hese are all gameful design principles.
While some instructors make the case for tangible, replicable game elements
(implementing leaderboards, rewards, badges, and levels in their courses),
other more pedantic theorists consider these elements to be extrinsic to the
actual game experience as they chase the goal of more consistently valuable
and powerf ul intrinsic motivators.
There are no simple right answers, but the flip side of that is t here are no
really wrong answers either. Millennial students tend to deeply appreciate
and be supportive of any efforts to meet and engage them. While almost
everyone from the Gen X population is sure that Millennials are playing games
(usually on their phones) ALL the time, they aren’t. They are disproportionately
18 Game On!
engaging with gamefully designed apps and actually play online games less
than we do (that is, if you’re 30–45). If you’re not, then enjoy youth, as it
fades quickly—right around 39 and a half.
In online courses most students have experienced what we’ll call read-
post-respond (perfunctory) discussion boards fueled by horrible PowerPoint
slides and unreadable (on screen) PDFs. They are very eager, even borderline
desperate, to try anything as an alternative. Remember that retro, basic-is-cool,
and even drafty creative ideas can fly. Napkin sketches are what set Steve Jobs,
Bill Gates, and (probably) Mark Zuckerberg on their way. The song “Louie
Louie” was written by Richard Berry on toilet paper in a club’s men’s room.
Back as far as 1814 at Chesapeake Bay, Francis Scott Key wrote the lyrics to
“The Star-Spangled Banner” on the back of a letter, having seen the flag still
there “by the dawn’s early light.”
Unlike set texts and didactic lecturing, online courses provide a continuing
illustration of what works and what doesn’t via the footprints that student
participants make through the system. As analytics become more central to
institutions’ strategic work, gameful redesign of coursework provides a won-
derful opportunity to meet students where they are at, especially supporting
those whose confidence and engagement are unfairly low. As one of my cases
states, it can even provide a way to democratize participation. In a good
game, everyone participates, not just the smart, confident students. Gamifi-
cation or gameful design, when well done, has the effect of personalizing the
student experience. It puts the student at the center of learning. I have heard
this referred to as a “Copernican revolution”: the student who was formerly
orbiting at a distance around a dazzling and worrying mass of materials is
now at the center of the universe, with smaller sets of materials and options
orbiting around them. This mirrors what has happened with traditional TV
scheduling being supplanted by on-demand. We are no longer beholden to
receiving content or entertainment solely on the networks’ terms. Given the
potential for commercial-free binge watching (with personal preference rang-
ing from one episode a month to near-OCD viewing patterns, watching three
screens at once), the scheduling has become viewer-centric. As C. Scott Rigby
describes, this centrality, or this notion of “me being in control,” accentuates
the ability to meet the core psychological needs of mastery, autonomy and
relatedness. Mastery energizes and motivates (Ryan and Deci 2000), auton-
omy provides choice and freedom from control, and relatedness ensures that
we feel that we matter to ourselves and to others (Rigby 2014). Let’s just ac-
cept that education is suffering from a significant amount of deferred main-

tenance. While we should certainly be building on inherent strengths, we
should also be exploring the Copernican revolution and what it means to our
instruction. We should try putting the student at the center of their studies,
encouraging their autonomy and choice, and facilitating their engagement
through narrative, competition, cooperation, or challenge. As Niman, who
you w
ill meet again in his brilliant case study, stated, “We have not engaged
students in a way that has made their educational experience a personal one
with demonstrable benefits and a clear rationale for how it is g
oing to make
them more successful.”
So put on your game face, and we’ll see what we can do to fix that in the
coming chapters.
CHAPTER TWO
How Did We Get Here?

T H E M AT U R AT I O N O F O N L I N E E D U C AT I O N
Before diving headlong into practitioner cases, it is worth spending some

time understanding the state of online course development and deployment
in higher education. As one of the few to have had a job title that actually
included both t hose terms, I feel I have to somehow justify a position I held
for almost exactly four years (2012–2016): executive director of curriculum
development and deployment of Northeastern University’s College of Profes-
sional Studies.
The massive open online course (MOOC) explosion of 2012 brought a tsu-
nami of attention to online instruction of all varieties. Discussions about
online education finally and firmly landed in the worlds of the “Ivies” and
highly ranked research universities. While initial massive interest was tem-
pered by findings that MOOC completion rates appeared to be extremely low
(substantially lower than for other forms of online and traditional education)
for many, MOOCs provided a kind of validity to online education that had,
to that point, been lacking. Prior to that time, online environments had been
(a) inaccessible without tuition (the unknown fueled suspicion) and (b) cham-
pioned almost exclusively by for-profits, lower-ranked institutions, and com-
munity colleges. Before 2010, most institutions dabbling in online had been
compelled to diversify revenue streams b
ecause other aspects of their cam-
puses e ither were not working or could not scale. The assumed “lack of
quality” argument so often proffered by the more elite institutions was
thrown into doubt by the fact that Harvard, MIT, and Stanford were now get-
ting their feet wet with online offerings. The lure of the rock star experience
(with tens of thousands of students) appealed to egos and consequently insti-
tutions, and faculty that had never previously considered delivering any-
thing online suddenly showed interest in mounting what appeared to be a
momentum-gathering bandwagon. My own experience was that faculty who
previously had no interest now suddenly perked up. They wondered why my
How Did We Get H
ere? 21
team, with our budget for course development right around 10% of that be-
ing spent on MOOCs, didn’t feature such polished multimedia, why we still
had to launch from a learning management system where things like grades
were being kept FERPA-proof (that is, adhering to the privacy requirements of
the F
amily Educational Rights and Privacy Act), and why, ultimately, they
couldn’t engage and maintain a student audience with minimal (MOOC-
like) faculty presence, feedback, and encouragement. MOOCs shifted quickly
from a blessing to a curse and then, soon a
fter, to an irrelevance as we con-
tinued trying to build 15-week, participation-focused, online experiential (I
know, somewhat oxymoronic) courseware and content. My takeaway from
where we are at with respect to the MOOC phenomenon:
• As w
e’ve been through the hype and the post-hype letdown, now is
the time to coldly evaluate what is/was great about the MOOC
concept and what e lse is out there (technology-and pedagogy-w ise)
that could be added to the mix to meet institutional goals.
• MOOCs, at least originally, were not tasked with effectively addressing
community building, secure assessment, or persistence/completion.
• There are means to meld elements of MOOCs with work that has
been done over the last 15–20 years by instructional designers and
innovators in the field. It should not be an either-or situation.
• Administrators, developers, and faculty should pay attention to the
target audience for their classes (demographic, prior exposure to
higher education successes/failures, etc.) when we decide on institu-
tional strategy.
• Fragile/post-traditional learners w
ill not persist in a MOOC environ-
ment without comprehensive support and a boatload of intrinsic
motivation addressed as part of the course build. “We can scale
content; we can’t scale encouragement” (Siemens 2011a).
The primary takeaway lesson is that for the twenty-first-century student

hooked on social media, where instant “likes” equate to instant gratification,
their penchant for immediate feedback represents a growing challenge for
purveyors of online education. The obvious solution to this, increasing faculty
presence, is not v iable at most institutions, while the near-universal desire to
scale and cater to larger populations exacerbates the challenge. Although
MOOCs shone a light on this disconnect, the sense that demand for contact
and engagement had long outstripped the faculty supply of the same was an
22 Game On!
issue well known to students and administrators in “traditional” online edu-

cation for a number of years. From full-time faculty members with multiple
concurrent duties to adjuncts teaching multiple sections, most find it hard to
maintain a v iable and supportive presence through web-based systems be-
tween classes. At institutions like Western Governors University and South-
ern New Hampshire University, e ither a more pliant governance system or, in
the latter case, focused and resolute leadership has resulted in what has been
called an unbundling of the faculty role, to allow a significant proportion of
these high-touch students’ needs to be served by (candidly, more affordable)
alternate mentors, advisors, or graders.
As differentiated models of online education have propagated, from MOOCs
through adaptive to self-directed courses and beyond, many campuses have
supported the establishment of new positions. T
hese new staff members typi-
cally have to find the m
iddle ground between ambitious administrators and
experienced, sometimes change-resistant faculty.
Instructional Design
The concept of instructional design developed primarily from the World

War II need to assess learners’ abilities to succeed in military training pro-
grams. Bloom’s Taxonomy (1956) articulated a basic set of terminology that
evolved through the work of Skinner (1971) and others, developing into the
lexicon and core concepts of the profession that persist to the present day.
With the development of online training, courseware, and programs of
study, the principles transitioned and developed to the degree that the ma-
jority of current-day instructional design pract it ioners are involved in the
development of online learning. In the 1980s and 1990s, personal comput-
ers, games, and simulations started to appear, and the web, with its use of
hyperlinks and digital media, became recognized as having a role to play in
the field of e-learning. The ability to quickly locate and link to online re-
sources enhanced the value of educational tools and added to the complexi-
ties of the online product. As technologies evolved, the potential of online
learning for corporate (and then academic) purposes became increasingly
apparent. With resources and formats becoming more varied and nuanced,
practitioners started to collect and monitor metrics in attempts to deter-
mine which factors w
ere integral to the design of engaging courses. Foci
evolved from initial basic course usability and navigation, through target
audience fluency in online terminologies, to considering level of challenge
How Did We Get H
ere? 23
(difficulty) of learning content. This combining of emerging concepts like

grit and self-efficacy proved to be an important consideration for student
success.
The developing complexity and recognition of a key skill set typically
missing from campuses prior to the last decade or so has made the instructional
design skill set quite sought after and marketable. In 2014, the website Recruiter
.com rated the job of instructional designer as “new and emerging,” project-
ing rapid growth with the 2010 employment of 128,780 expected to grow to
165,000 in 2018 (a 3.5% annual rate of growth). Along with, and concurrent
to, this hockey stick upturn as a general c areer choice, in larger institutions
the role has diversified into more specialized subcategories. These include
production specialists (with a focus on materials development), learning architects
(honed on tenets of cognitive science and pedagogy), online curriculum/assess-
ment specialists (correlating promised outcomes and objectives with actual
materials, activities, and summative assessments), graphic/multimedia support,
and LMS specialists charged with making sure all the component parts speak
to each other.
The increasing complexity of available technologies, such as discussion
boards, audio threads, and multimedia elements, to create personalized and
adaptive systems has further emphasized the need for effective instructional
design. Newer iterations of the LMS have made the basic posting and hosting
of materials quite s imple so that the majority of faculty can manage them-
selves after a brief training or orientation, thus freeing up the instructional
designers for more complex and nuanced work.
The early instructional designer’s role, sometimes considered more of an
educational technology support role, assisted the experienced classroom in-
structor in doing whatever he or she felt might capture face-to-face presence
best. The efforts clearly had limitations, for when instructors try faithfully
to transfer their face-to-face instruction directly to an online format, often
classroom capture via streaming video, they miss opportunities to make bet-
ter use of the online environment. In most progressive institutions, instruc-
tional designers have been able to move past perfunctory technical (help
desk) support of academics to more appropriate discussions of online peda-
gogy, assessment, and best practices for online instruction. Illustrations of
this shift from a focus on technical functionality (what can I do with the
LMS?) to better pedagogy (how can I teach, as well or better, using the LMS
and related tools?) are seen in the transitions from early attempts to simply
24 Game On!
7
Certificate-earning students
All other students
Median time spent watching video (minutes)
0
0–3 mins. 3–6 mins. 6–9 mins. 9–12 mins. 12–15 mins. 15–40 mins.
Videos grouped by length
Figure 1. edX video engagement findings, 2013. Analysis by Philip Guo, pg@cs.rochester
.edu.
replicating live classroom experiences to using better practices for content

formatting. Early efforts included capturing of hour(s)-long lectures by video.
Didactic lecturing is tough to stay with in person; online, as evidence now
shows, it is pretty much unwatchable, with viewer attention long gone by the
six-or seven-minute mark, as figure 1 shows. Well-structured content in con
temporary online courses is referred to as “chunked”—sized (based on ac-
crued evidence of what works) so that the consumer—student—can grasp a
concept before he or she is asked to go and do something with the knowledge.
The emphasis in later iterations also shifted to the challenges of building
community online, increasing engagement, and constructing more easily re-
tained content.
Wallace “Wally” Boston, CEO of American Public Education, Inc., notes that
his instructors and instructional designers don’t make video or audio files of
more than four minutes (2014). As research and the trend-monitor have come
around to emphasis on what is variably called “student-centered learning”
(SCL), “active learning,” and “the learner at the center,” the shift away from the
lecture, particularly in the online environment, has gathered steam.
How Did We Get H
ere? 25
The humility needed for some instructors to lean on expertise provided by

(usually) younger and (predominantly) female staff has constituted a culture
shift at many institutions. Several observers have reflected on the challenge
for the traditional instructor, who assumes mastery of both teaching and
instructional design despite having little to no training in e ither of t hese
fields. Dr. Richard Clark of the University of Southern California refers to the
“expert blind spot,” articulating the challenge for high-level experts (faculty)
to remember the small steps that all novices, including themselves, needed
when they first approached concepts as beginning learners. The information
that is transmitted to the student should be both suitably leveled (appropriate
level of challenge) and suitably sized, or chunked, to allow steady, more in-
cremental progress in learning. M. David Merrill’s work on component dis-
play theory and mental models in human-computer interaction described
the need to deconstruct established instruction habits and consciously de-
sign to leverage the potential of electronic communications media generally
and online instruction specifically (Carroll & Olson 1988; Merrill 1983).
Development Models
As we crest the many challenges in delivering effective, pedagogically robust

teaching and learning, both in a classroom and at a distance, further possi-
bilities and further challenges are opening up. At most institutions, along with
online growth has come the realization that to develop and deliver effective
online courses that encourage engagement, there must be further investment
in design expertise. Some institutions have moved to external vendors that
have taken on the cost of course development, marketing, and many other
risks of launching courses. T
hese vendors, Embanet and Everspring among
them, look to negotiate multiyear revenue shares of up to 80% of tuition in-
come. Other institutions have insourced to leverage institutional focus by
committing faculty to work alongside instructional designers, online pedagogy
experts, and technologists. The advantage to an institution with in-house
development is that once materials and technology have been developed,
online instruction becomes scalable with incremental costs per learner and
potentially large profits.
For instructional designers and t hose in related fields, the search is on to
implement principles that w
ill encourage fragile online populations to stay
engaged. The societal impetus to engage larger numbers of learners with
limited prior academic success is a real and substantial challenge for all in
26 Game On!
academia. Having previously addressed the low-hanging fruits of design con-

cepts that support users on the web (generally usability, content architecture,
and accessibility), attention is shifting to elements that they might weave
into instructor-provided content. This may draw on cognitive science, adaptive
learning, learning analytics, and gamification, which I use h
ere intentionally
as the umbrella term under which a Monty Python–esque range of subgenres
exist (see “People’s Front of Judea” / “Judean People’s Front”). An embrace of
the term and the concept of gamification at least provides inspiration for de-
sign teams to move beyond basic course design and encourage creativity and
experimentation with some of these newer concepts. As some practitioners
have described, it is time to move on to wherever we should be now. If early
HTML was online 1.0 and the LMS with basic plugins was 2.0, then surely it’s
time to see what constitutes 3.0. Research shows that courses centered on
discussion boards that are structured to support requirements for students to
simply read, post, and respond may, in fact, limit active learning (Moorhead,
Colburn, Edwards, & Erwin 2013).
Gamification melds and unifies many of the best practices and potentials
of other pedagogical approaches, as w ill become apparent in the forthcoming
chapters. Karl Kapp simply defines gamification as “the use of game mechan-
ics to make learning and instruction more fun” and expounds on this defini-
tion to describe the concept more viscerally. “Think of the engaging elements
of why p
eople play games—for the sense of achievement, immediate feed-
back, feeling of accomplishment, and success of striving against a challenge
and overcoming it” (Kapp 2012, xxi–x xii). He further describes gamification
as “motivation to succeed” with the “reduced sting of failure.”
When considering the potential of online classes to increase access for
underserved communities, the “post-traditional” learners that Louis Soares,
vice president of the Center for Policy Research and Strategy at the American
Council of Education, describes in Post-Traditional Learners and the Transfor-
mation of Postsecondary Education (2013) must not be neglected. Soares pre-
dicts that these students w ill have disproportionate participation in online
(a.k.a. affordable) courses. Kathryn Ecclestone, professor of postcompulsory
education at the Westminster Institute of Education, worries that t hese frag-
ile learners need specialized, multifaceted care of their emotional well-being
and the kind of encouragement and support that are not feasible in large-
scale online classes (2008). Into this conundrum, just perhaps, steps some of
the work and findings of early gameful designers.
How Did We Get H
ere? 27
If a concept such as gamification has the potential to affect student en-

gagement positively through practitioner feedback, it could benefit the students
who struggle most with learning and persistence in online education. It is
certainly worth exploring gamification and its constituent parts to see w
hether
these early practitioner efforts merit further, more measured, experimenta-
tion. Although t here are many ways to approach gamified courses in terms of
how they interface with the user (simulations, video games with educational
settings, or even clickers in the face-to-face classroom), it is more beneficial to
review the underlying mechanics and how they can be applied to online
courses. It is instructive to examine how a practitioner implements specific
game elements in courses with the aim of increasing student engagement.
Jesse Schell of Carneg ie Mellon University has referred to this concept of
increasing user stickiness or propensity to stay on page as the “psychology of
engagement” (2010).
Why Now?
We are living in a time of flux and possibility in online education. The field
has matured to the extent that there is a growing body of evidence mapping
out criteria that positively impact student learning outcomes and a sense of
entrepreneurial possibility is in the air. The US Department of Education’s
2010 meta-analysis of 99 studies comparing online and face-to-face classes
concluded that “Students in online conditions performed modestly better,
on average, than t hose learning the same material through traditional face-
to-face instruction” (xiv).
The report also identified a number of elements typically implemented in
the design phase of online course development as having an influence on
learning outcomes. The elements included use of multimedia, active learning
(where the learner has to take actions such as clicking on items to reveal con-
tent), and student time-on-task.
The report’s most notable takeaway was that time-on-task is a critical factor
with respect to learning outcomes irrespective of format. Online learning’s
potential simply may be the fact that it is more conducive to the expansion of
time-on-task than is face-to-face instruction. To expand time-on-task in face-to-
face classes, instructor time, classroom space, and students’ ability to physically
attend at set times all have to be considered. In online classes, the uploading
of late-breaking news or current, interesting readings or activities by the click
of a mouse can achieve the same result with far fewer ramifications.
28 Game On!
Despite t hese clear conclusions, a degree of inertia persists within academia

with regard to implementing designed elements—even t hose shown by a pre-
ponderance of evidence to make an online course or program more likely to
increase student engagement. At times, faculty members’ passion and confi-
dence in their own teaching experience make them unwilling to explore new
concepts for teaching and learning. On the instructional design side of the
equation, evidence supporting specific aspects of course design has started to
align as research in the field develops.
Early instructional design centered on learning styles and multiple intel-
ligences (Gardner 1983) before developing via the field of cognitive science
(Clark 2005; Mayer 2003), and then expanding to noncognitive student
characteristics and more recent concepts such as intrinsic motivation, gam-
ification, and learning analytics. With the recent development of analytics
software in online classes, it has become easier to track student behavior and
quantify which course elements produce more student engagement and, per
the US Department of Education report, better learning outcomes. With data
in hand, faculty and administrative design staff should be better able to de-
velop effective online lessons supported by direct research into what is r eally
working. Before digging further into definitions of key elements in the gami-
fication literat ure, it is essential to understand some of the basic tenets of
student engagement. The hope of pract it ioners and theorists alike is that
gamification may be a means to implement concepts and techniques broadly
in online courses to lead to an uptick in student engagement.
Measures of Engagement
Engagement long has been identified as an essential precursor of student suc-

cess in face-to-face and online classes. Chen, Gonyea, and Kuh say that en-
gagement is positively linked to a number of desired outcomes, including
high grades, student satisfaction, and perseverance (2008). Despite that clar-
ity, and despite the opportunity provided by online courses where student
access and behavioral data are readily available, t here is no universally accepted
definition of what constitutes engagement. One serv iceable definition is that
engagement is the “quality of effort students themselves devote to education-
ally purposeful activities that contribute directly to desired outcomes” (Krause
& Coates 2008, 493). Other studies define engagement in terms of interest,
effort, motivation, and time-on-task and suggest that t here is a causal relation-
How Did We Get H
ere? 29
ship between engaged time (the period of time in which students are com-
pletely focused on and participating in the learning task) and academic
achievement (Bulger et al. 2008).
In his report on the National Survey of Student Engagement, admittedly
focused on traditional classroom study, George Kuh (2009) quotes the work of
Chickering and Gamson (1987), who list principles required to foster student
engagement. Their work, Seven Principles for Good Practice in Undergraduate
Education, emphasizes student-faculty contact, cooperation among students,
active learning, prompt feedback, time-on-task, high expectations, and respect
for diverse talents and ways of learning. The general conclusion from the lit
erat ure is that engagement is a complicated blend of active and collaborative
learning, participation in challenging academic activities, communication
between teachers and students (and between students), and involvement in
enriching educational experiences and communities (Chickering & Gamson
1987; Clark 2005; DeTure 2004; Kuh 2009).
The ability to quantitatively measure student engagement in online courses
is dependent on the data-capture capacities of technology in which the course
is situated (Rankine, Stevenson, Malfroy, & Ashford-Rowe 2009). Most of the
companies still in the LMS market, such as Blackboard, Instructure, and Desire-
2Learn, offer metrics of some kind, but the available data, until very recently,
were rudimentary and time-consuming to extract and interpret. Captured
LMS data can and have been used to approximate student engagement and
the evaluation of learning activities (Dawson & McWilliam 2008). Yet LMS
data can only approximate actual student engagement. Simple metrics, such
as frequency of student logins and grade point average (GPA), have been the
most commonly observed measures. MOOCs and some of the newer adaptive
learning providers in particular are promising much more granular and po-
tentially significant metrics.
There is the danger that data might provoke inaccurate conclusions. Tech-
nologically savvy students might download documents and review them
multiple times, while a less tech-savvy student might repeatedly go back to the
LMS without actually reading much. From the perspective of the captured
data, the tech-savvy student has visited the documents once during the term
whereas o
thers, choosing to click on the documents at e very visit, errone-
ously appear more engaged. In reviews of student engagement, this kind of
ambiguity w ill have to be borne in mind as metrics are considered. The
30 Game On!
uncertainty of the data in this area is one of the reasons that early studies
tended to focus on interviews and qualitative data when trying to assess the
merits of a variety of treatments.
Building Engagement Into Online Courses
A number of theories inform our understanding of how aspects of instruc-

tional design can increase student engagement. The field itself is in a fairly
constant state of flux given the rapid pace of technological change and the
academic press’s fascination with the next big thing. Some concepts have
become established in the field and are a common part of the lexicon (usabil-
ity, information architecture), some technologies that seemed to have great
potential have faded from consideration (virtual 3D worlds like Second Life),
while other aspects have had narrow yet persistent support among their fans
(open education resources). A v iable proposition is that adaptive learning al-
lied with leading work in cognitive science and learning analytics could be a
game-changer in the connected world of instructional design and higher ed-
ucation. With the basic tenets of those fields marked out, it could be instruc-
tive to assess the point at which they intersect to consider whether they
might come together under a banner heading of gamification.
Cognitive Science
Self-efficacy, a central element of cognitive science, describes the belief in

one’s capabilities to organ ize and execute the courses of action required to
produce given attainments and has long been proposed as a determinant to
learner success in online courses (Bandura 1997). Data from a number of
studies show correlations between student low self-efficacy and failure to per-
sist in online courses (DeTure 2004; Schrum & Benson 2001). T
here is a sense
that the effect of low self-efficacy, while important in traditional/face-to-face
classes, is exacerbated in online classes, where it (self-efficacy) is more diffi-
cult to recognize and harder to correct through support (DeTure 2004). The
positive relationship between computer familiarity and computer self-efficacy
was empirically verified by the work of Compeau and Higgins (1995), while
Staples, Hulland, and Higgins (1999) found that those with high levels of self-
efficacy in remote computing situations were more productive, satisfied, and
able to cope when working remotely.
Cognitive science theory extends beyond self-efficacy to look at how much
and in what way students can assimilate and retain materials most efficiently
How Did We Get H
ere? 31
and effectively. The prime challenge is determining how cognitive skills and
strategies make it possible for certain people to act effectively and complete
tasks that o
thers struggle with and fail. Studies suggest that students are more
likely to gain deeper and lasting conceptual understanding from materials or
content designed with cognitive science principles (such as how information
is represented, processed, and transformed) in mind (Baggett 1984; Mayer
2003; Mayer & Moreno 2002). Online courses that are designed based on
cognitive science principles assist students in managing their cognitive load,
or focusing their cognitive resources during learning and problem solving, thus
leading to better learning outcomes (Chandler & Sweller 1991). Sweller, Van
Merriënboer, and Paas’s l ater work on cognitive load theory in particular dis-
cusses how learning is limited by the capacity of working memory (1998).
Both Sweller and Clark outline a number of strategies instructional design-
ers can use to help students manage cognitive load so that learning is made
more effective, more efficient or both (Clark 2005; Sweller, Van Merriënboer,
& Paas 1998). Cognitive task analysis connects most clearly with the world of
instructional design when practitioners carefully format materials with spe-
cific attention to what is called “chunk” size, defined as the amount of content
that is organized into one part. The size of chunks, neither too large nor too
small, is positively related to a student’s ability to assimilate knowledge. The
importance of appropriate chunking was demonstrated in Moreno’s work,
which showed that participants who studied a carefully segmented, or chun-
ked, version of a classroom video reported lower mental effort and perceived
the learning materials as less difficult than participants using nonsegmented
versions of the same material (2007). The benefit of effective chunking was
most pronounced in the case of novice learners, who were less capable of ad-
equately processing information unless it was packaged thoughtfully. Long
and short-term memories differ in fundamental ways, with only short-term
memory demonstrating temporal decay and chunk capacity limits (Cowan
2009). When working memory is overloaded or “extraneous content provided,”
a barrier comes down and prevents anything passing over to long-term
memory (Sweller, Van Merriënboer, & Paas 1998). If the content is effectively
chunked, the learner can better process conceptually distinct clusters of in-
formation and better retain them (Mautone & Mayer 2001; Mayer & Moreno
2002; Pollock, Chandler, & Sweller 2002).
Part of the attraction of games and gamification may be that they effectively
chunk learning (of game features) so as to steadily reveal new features, skills,
32 Game On!
and techniques to the user who practices and assimilates them. Another de-
veloping phenomenon that is worth framing before digging into the detail
and nuance of gamification is adaptive learning. Adaptive learning extends
the principle of chunked knowledge, directing different students to different
chunks based on their aptitude or study preferences with the goal of encour-
aging engagement through appropriate challenge and personalized paths.
Adaptive Learning
Adaptive learning describes the provision of multiple paths through materi-

als and supplemental materials that are personalized and tailored to individ-
ual users based on choice and prior performance. For-profit companies such
as Knewton, Cerego, and CogBooks are leading a charge to implement sys-
tems that resonate with gamers in that user choice leads to system conse-
quence. Macroadaptivity is based on prior behavior of large numbers of users
and is best illustrated in the corporate world with Amazon’s “People who
bought book x, also liked book y.” Microadaptivity is tailored to an individ-
ual user’s prior personal selections and successes. If a user performed better
on self-check tests and quizzes after accessing video content, a microadaptive
system would record this and, wherever possible, serve up video as opposed
to text-based content. Advocates see the potential to make coursework more
attractive or “sticky” to students, keeping p
eople motivated to persist. This
approach aligns with online course development priorities seeking to increase
engagement, time-on-task, and, consequently, learning outcomes.
A frequent criticism of traditional classroom instruction, and at times of
the instructors themselves, is that instructors teach to their own learning
style (Stewart, Jones, & Pope 1999), defined as “a set of factors, behaviors, and
attitudes that facilitate learning for an individual in a given situation” (Reiff
1992). The singular style of most classroom instructors, transferred directly
to static-design web-based instruction, frequently has produced monotonous
courses, some salvaged with persistent instructor presence, others not. The
pace of improvement in online learning has been slowed by inexperienced
instructional designers and instructors failing to apply appropriate instruc-
tional strategies or to monitor student progress when developing online classes
(Inan & Lowther 2007; Palmer & Holt 2009; Schrum & Benson 2001; Song
et al. 2004).
Adaptive learning has the potential to track what is and isn’t working,
producing evidence to promote student learning outcomes. Song and Keller
How Did We Get H
ere? 33
suggest that enriched learning experiences occur when the design of instruc-
tion considers student motivation and preferences (2001). Growing interest
in the concept is demonstrated by foundational and corporate funding op-
portunities such as the Adaptive Learning Market Acceleration Program grant
opportunity commissioned by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and
the Adaptive Learning Research Grant Program offered by Adapt Courseware.
The hope of these funders is that, when implemented correctly, adaptive learn-
ing systems will increase student performance, motivation, and attitudes while
concurrently decreasing learning time and usability problems (Brusilovsky,
Sosnovsky, & Yudelson 2009; Dogan 2008; Papanikolaou et al. 2003; Tsandi-
las & Schraefel 2004; Tsianos et al. 2009).
Learning Analytics
A final perspective that might inform the understanding of gamification of

online courses is learning analytics, defined by Siemens as “the measurement,
collection, analysis, and reporting of data about learners and their contexts
for purposes of understanding and optimizing learning and the environments
in which it occurs” (2011b). The term has been increasingly applied to the
field of education as practitioners start to understand the information that
can be gathered from an LMS. As numbers of students taking online classes
have grown, with a recent bump through the massive enrollments associated
with MOOCs, the opportunity to analyze data about student behavior is of
great value. Proprietary LMS companies are promoting new analytics suites,
with access to on-demand information aimed at improving academic success
and student retention. Learning analysts use this quantitative output to
assess student behaviors and learning trends.
The Blackboard LMS, in particular, has been very vocal in touting the new
dawn that this ability to collect and analyze data heralds. On their website,
they state that clients participating in a field trial of their new analytics suite
in 2013 reported “great success in gaining insight into student activity, iden-
tifying outstanding course designs that promoted active student engagement,
[and] fostering a culture of discovery and investigation about the future of
online and blended learning” (Blackboard 2013). While t hese proclamations
come across more as a sales pitch than solid quantitative research, the claim
that their tool is able to directly measure the impact of online course design
and online teaching techniques on student engagement and learning outcomes
merits attention. Learning analytics can potentially measure even incremental
34 Game On!
gains wrought by the application of cognitive science and adaptive learning

systems. If gamification is a banner cause able to unite these areas, driving
adoption and focused analysis, then we might be seeing (no pun intended) a
real game-changer.
Gamification
Educational gamification, accentuating and embracing the visceral elements

of gaming and drawing from social cognitive and adaptive learning perspec-
tives, has the potential to move the dial on student engagement, time-on-task,
and student outcomes (US Department of Education 2010). Prensky (2001)
and Asgari (2005) believe that gamification is a broad, comprehensive, acces-
sible, and even visceral term with the potential to align previously distinct
schools of thought within the instructional design community. Gamification
encompasses insights gained from the work of cognitive scientists, adaptive
learning, and learning analytics, and it seems to have promise to improve
student engagement in online courses radically. As Jesse Schell reflected
during his keynote at the Design Innovate Communicate Entertain (DICE)
Summit in 2010, design is moving from the perfunctory to a new focus on
immersion in aspects that approximate fun rather than merely functionality.
“There is something that’s happening in culture right now—a shift just as
sure as the Industrial Revolution was a shift. We’re moving from a time when
life was all about survival to a time when it was about efficiency into a new
era where design is largely about what’s pleasurable” (Schell 2010).
The value of this shift was claimed at the For the Win Conference held at
the Wharton School in Philadelphia back in August 2011. Gabe Zichermann,
gamification author, entrepreneur, and blogger, stated then, “It’s the mean-
ing we w
ill enrich, educations we w
ill improve, health we w
ill foster and lives
we w
ill lengthen through the application of gamification design that w ill be
among our most important legacies” (2011). Gamification likely would have
not made an impact at all had the progenitors of cognitive science, learning
analytics, and early online learning analysts not led the way by suggesting
that there was work to be done in enhancing online education.
Educational games, gaming theory, game mechanics, and gamification
have all had numerous evolutions and a few false dawns during the last
couple of decades. The field developed as gaming extended its reach beyond
the console, initially to corporate training, then to health care, then finally
on to education. Heralding a shift in focus away from clickers and avatars,
How Did We Get H
ere? 35
Kapp defined gamification as “a careful and considered application of game

thinking to solving problems and encouraging learning using all the ele
ments of games that are appropriate” (2012, 15–16). Gee, who provides a lot
of the energy in the area of gaming implemented in the educational milieu,
explains why learning should be more like gaming. “Learning is, or should
be, both frustrating and life enhancing. The key is finding ways to make hard
things life enhancing so that people keep g
oing and d
on’t fall back on learn-
ing and only work with what is simple and easy” (Gee 2003, 6).
The first manifestation of gamification in the “serious” world (as was true
of the field of instructional design itself) was military, where war games have
been used for centuries to train personnel without loss of life. Many consider
Chaturanga, played in India in the seventh century, to be the first war game,
with pieces representing foot soldiers, elephants, and chariots moved on a
playing board much like the modern chessboard. Fast-forward to the present
day, with the average American child between the ages of 8 and 18 playing
seven hours of video games each week, and it is clear that video games do
capture students’ attention and interest (Gentile & Walsh 2002; National In-
stitute on the Media and the Family 2002).
A reasonable working hypothesis is that elements intrinsic to games can be
factored into materials development to improve student learning outcomes
(more recently and now, more typically, referred to as gameful design). Mate-
rials structured with game principles in mind could enable students to work
with big ideas contextually, as well as symbolically, so they learn how to apply
abstract ideas in qualitative and meaningful ways (diSessa 1982). Safe, “it’s
only a game . . .” experimentation with big ideas and symbols may help stu-
dents develop domain-specific schema (ways of thinking) that they can start
to use to develop and demonstrate the particular nuance and mindset more
typical of domain experts than of novice learners (Ambrose 2010). Evidence
presented by Greeno, Collins, and Resnick (1996) and others suggests the po-
tential for users to become active rather than passive participants in shaping
their role and actions to promote engagement and time-on-task. When stu-
dents become active participants in the knowledge-assimilation process
(Greeno, Collins, & Resnick 1996), the “focus of learning shifts from covering
the curriculum to working with ideas” (Scardamalia 2000). This form of sys-
tem response is analogous to that of adaptive learning (addressed earlier) where
student action produces a system reaction tailored to reinforce, support, or re-
direct behavior.
36 Game On!
There are still distinct factions u

nder the gamification banner. One side is
enthused by the simulation or game design side of the research, whereas the
other focuses on the psychological underpinnings of gaming. Fully-fledged,
immersive game development is far beyond the scope of many design teams.
While exact figures are hard to locate, World of Warcraft has been quoted at
around $63 million to develop (digitalbattle.com) with perhaps three times
that amount for marketing and upkeep in its first four years of existence (ko-
taku.com). With World of Warcraft as the competition, most efforts to pro-
duce action versions of education have fallen flat and are generally received
by students as watered-down games and by academics as watered-down
education. Irrespective of the visuals and technical sophistication, low-tech
activities can provide intrinsic motivation by incorporating game elements
such as optimal level of challenge; appropriate goals; uncertain outcomes;
clear, constructive, immediate feedback; and elements of curiosity and cre-
ativity (Brophy 2004; Cordova & Lepper 1996; Malone 1981).
One example that could be explored in a low-tech context would be the way
that game designers encourage a player’s acceptance of failing as a step toward
learning. Education stigmatizes failure, and w
hether it does so consciously or
not is a moot point. A former president of a midsized college in the north-
eastern United States captures the costs of failure, stating in a personal con-
versation that, at her institution, only 10–15% of students who needed one
remediation course completed associate’s degrees. Students who failed again
and needed a second remediation course, in her experience, never graduated
despite repeated attempts in class sizes with a high-touch average of just nine
students per instructor. Compare that to the motivation that game failure
provokes. Again, quoting Gee, “When the character you are playing dies in a
video game, you can get sad and upset, but you also usually get pissed that
you have failed. And then you start again, usually from a saved game, moti-
vated to do better” (2003, 82).
Which response should we be cultivating: abject failure and misery or
annoyed, pissed even, resolution to beat this damn t hing?
Prior Studies
Studies since the early 1990s, when the phenomenon first started to gain at-
tention, suggest the promise of gamification and provide guidance for present-
day focus. Though the systematic application of gamification to conventional
online learning is a relatively new concept, since the 1990s a number of
How Did We Get H
ere? 37
studies have analyzed the effects of games used as instructional tools. A 1992
meta-analysis reviewed 67 studies conducted over 28 years comparing game-
oriented learning against the same content delivered by conventional in-
struction (Randel et al. 1992). They found that 56% of individuals in the
game-oriented groups showed no difference in learning outcomes between
games and conventional instruction, while 32% had higher learning outcomes
(demonstrated via measurable tests) from the game format. The authors con-
cluded that subjects where content is very prescriptive and not particularly
open to interpretation (e.g., math) are more likely to show beneficial effects
for gaming (Randel et al. 1992). Wolfe’s 1997 analysis concluded that game-
based approaches produced greater knowledge-level increases over conven-
tional case-based teaching methods. A more recent meta-analysis concluded
that subjects’ confidence in their grasp of core course concepts was on average
20% higher in courses with game elements, declarative knowledge (defined
as “knowing what”) was 11% higher, procedural knowledge (“knowing how”)
was 14% higher, and overall student retention was 9% higher when simula-
tions were used (Sitzmann 2011). Ke (2009) reviewed 89 research articles that
provided empirical data on the application of computer-based instructional
games. She found that, of the 65 studies specifically examining the effective-
ness of computer-based games on learning, 52% returned a positive impact and
25% had “mixed results,” where an instructional game supported some learn-
ing outcomes but not o
thers. In only one study of 89 did she find that conven-
tional instruction was more effective than computer games.
Gamification is an inexact term used for successful implementation of
many game-related elements. As such, developers (and other interested par-
ties) who are interested in digging further into the concept need to under-
stand constituent elements. How are courses gamified? By what definition
and composition?
We’ll look into these questions throughout the cases and analysis that fol-
lows. Bear in mind as you proceed, a degree of deconstruction is necessary
before course development can begin. When building a gamified or a game-
fully designed course, implementing elements that bring together thinking
from cognitive science, psychometrics, and adaptive learning, the developer/
instructor (whether one and the same person or two individuals) must not
neglect the need to build in a way to stimulate user enjoyment. If learning is
always a task to be endured, then many w ill not persist. The final element to
consider, the lubricant to make the progress smooth, is flow. In the literat ure
38 Game On!
of games and gamification, flow is frequently referenced (see, e.g., Kapp 2012;
Schell 2008; Zicherman 2011). Flow provides foundation and context as well
as an ultimate goal for the construction of effective engagement in gamified
courses.
Flow
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (1990) builds on the concept of extreme engage-

ment, referring to “flow” as the point at which engagement makes effort feel
compelling and achievement feasible. The “game-psychology” faction led by
Prensky (2001) and academics such as Asgari (2005) argue that, while the vi-
sually striking elements of simulations—or “novelty effects”—initially may
provide competitive enjoyment or stimulation, the best types of engagement
come from learners’ enjoyment of “more effective learning experiences, ones
that put them in control and encourage active participation, exploration, re-
flection, and the individual construction of meaning” (Galarneau 2005). Pa-
pert (1997) refers to the principle of “hard fun” as the enjoyment derived
from a challenging but meaningful learning experience, an experience that
James Paul Gee (2003) described as “both frustrating and life enhancing.” As
Csikszentmihalyi describes it, flow represents “times when, instead of being
buffeted by anonymous forces, we feel in control of our actions, masters of
our own fate,” with a “sense of exhilaration, a deep sense of enjoyment that
is long cherished and that becomes a landmark in memory for what life
should be like” (1990). T
hese moments, contrary to many assumptions, are
not relaxed, idle periods; they are challenging and require focus. “The best
moments usually occur when a person’s body or mind is stretched to its
limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile.”
Csikszentmihalyi describes eight components as critical in engendering flow.
The task at hand must be achievable—the person involved must believe that
she or he can achieve it with some degree of effort. In addition, the person
must concentrate. The task must have clear goals, and t here must be feedback,
both immediate and continual. The participant should feel a sense of effort-
less involvement with control over actions having immediate and purposeful
results. Finally, when experiencing flow (a.k.a. being “in the zone”), concern
for self disappears. The only t hing the participant is thinking about is the ac-
tivity, and she or he experiences a notable loss of sense of time such that hours
feel like minutes (Csikszentmihalyi 1975). In recent revisions Csikszentmih-
alyi adds one final element: “the experience is an end in itself” (1990, 71). As
How Did We Get H
ere? 39
people seek enjoyment, what they really seek is to be in a state of flow. This
goal of optimum engagement is even more valuable than a prize at the end
(Reeves & Read 2009).
Other theories inform understanding of flow but are less widely cited than
Csikszentmihalyi’s. Malone’s (1987) theory of intrinsically motivating instruc-
tion describes three key elements that make a game motivational: challenge—
goals with uncertain outcomes, fantasy—an environment that evokes m
ental
images of t hings not present to the senses, and curiosity—an optimal level
of informational complexity. Lepper, a contemporary of Malone, contributes
Instructional Design Principles for Intrinsic Motivation. His four principles
are control—providing learners with a sense of agency over the learning activ-
ity, challenge—setting goals of uncertain attainment and an intermediate level
of difficulty, curiosity—highlighting areas of inconsistency, incompleteness
(or even inelegance) in the learner’s knowledge base, and contextualization—
highlighting the functionality of the activity (Lepper 1988).
Little is known from available research about how these states of flow or
intrinsic motivation can be effectively and intentionally built into an online
course or the impact of t hese elements on the engagement and time-on-task
of online students. Further research is also required to understand the effects
on outcomes for underserved or developmental subgroups that typically have
found sustained institutional study (traditional, face to face, and online)
challenging.
Defining Game Elements or Getting to Gameful Design
Constructing (or reconstructing) an academic course with embedded or in-

trinsic game elements first requires specifically defining what those elements
are. In the literat ure, there are many attempts to categorize and separate ele
ments that make up a successful game. One of the more accessible lists is
based on what has been called the “elemental tetrad” (Schell 2008). Schell
came from a video gaming background and identifies how key aspects of suc-
cessful, recreational games could be applied to online courses. He describes
the importance of the following elements:
• Mechanics—the procedures and rules of the game. The goal of the

game and how players can and cannot try to achieve it.
• Story—the sequence of events that unfolds as players play the game.
It can be linear and pre-scripted or emergent and branching.
40 Game On!
• Aesthetics—how the game looks, sounds, smells, tastes, and feels. The
aesthetics should reinforce the other elements of the game to create a
truly memorable experience.
• Technology—f rom paper and pencil to l asers and rockets. The
technology chosen for a game allows it to do certain things and not
do others. The technology is the medium in which the aesthetics
take place, in which the mechanics w ill occur, and through which
the story w ill be told.
All of t hese elements are of equal importance and must, according to Schell,
interact seamlessly (2008).
Other authors break game components into more specific categories. Kapp
references 12 distinct elements, with some overlap to the list above.
Aligning his definitions with those of Schell, Kapp says, “Gamification is
using game-based mechanics, aesthetics and game thinking to engage people,
motivate action, promote learning and solve problems” (2012). Kapp, among
others, recommends that essential components of a well-designed game in-
clude abstractions of concepts in which the game environment provides an
alternate rendering or approximation of reality, w
hether it be hypothetical,
imagined, or fictional. Pretty much all of the literat ure focused on this field
stresses that games must have goals to add purpose, focus, and measurable out-
comes and rules (defined as operational or how the game is played), founda-
tional (underlying formal structures), implicit/behavioral (defining the social
contact between players), and instructional (what you want the learner to know
and internalize after playing the game). Added to these fundamental aspects,
Kapp also encourages building conflict, competition, and cooperation into a
game, asserting that good game design includes elements of all three, inter-
twined to provide an engaging environment. Time or time constraints also can
be included by creating conditions where time is a key factor, increasing tension
and demanding focus as it expires, or where time is compressed to show out-
comes more quickly (typical in games where civilizations are built up or crops
farmed). The most often trivialized and perhaps misunderstood element of
gamification is what Kapp calls reward structures, which include badges, points,
or a leaderboard. Kapp argues that all need to be thoughtfully implemented as
integral parts of the game rather than treating gamification as an add-on.
Feedback in video games is almost constant—designed to evoke the cor-
rect behavior, thoughts, or actions—and Kapp includes feedback in his cate-
How Did We Get H
ere? 41
gories. Feedback is the place where gamification most closely aligns with cog-
nitive science, behavioral training, encouragement, and direction. Hunicke,
in a speech at UX Week in 2009, described what gamers call “juicy feedback”
as tactile, inviting, repeatable, coherent, continuous, emergent, balanced, and
fresh (2009). Schell (2010) describes “juicy” more metaphorically as a ripe
peach—just a little nibble of which gives you a good flow of delicious reward.
Kapp also stresses the need for defined levels in an effective game. Levels
keep a game manageable and allow for building and reinforcement of skills
while serving as motivation. Storytelling adds meaning, provides context,
and guides action. One of the more common stories is that of the “hero’s
journey,” first described by Joseph Campbell in 1949 and developed by Chris-
topher Vogler in 1992. The hero’s journey represents a quest with challenges
and hardships on the way before a final, immensely rewarding conclusion.
Elements of the structure of the hero’s journey might well be applicable to an
online class even if the epic, evil-conquering aspect is not. Kapp’s final three
elements indicate that developers need to think about the game / gamified
course’s curve of interest, defined as how a game can hold a learner’s atten-
tion by plotting the level of interest through time. Aesthetics (appropriate
and aligned visuals, showing the designer’s attention to detail) help create an
immersive environment that contributes to the overall game experience. The
elemental replay or do-over gives participants the permission to fail with
minimal consequences. Failure in an effective game equates to an additional
level of content, as it makes the player reconsider his or her approach to a
game. The act of failing multiple times makes the act of winning more
pleasurable.
The potential of these elements for increasing student engagement with
courses is apparent. Good teachers may feel that they incorporate some of
these elements to varying degrees in their traditional classes. One would cer-
tainly hope to see overlap between tenets of effective teaching no m
atter the
format. The search for elements of instruction leading to enhanced student
engagement suggests that gamified instruction and good, effective instruc-
tion do not have to be distant relatives.
Potential Application to Online Courses
Having analyzed the literat ure and broken down the concept and constituent
parts of games and gamification, a question that arises is whether these ele
ments are feasible inside a restrictive LMS and governance-bound academic
42 Game On!
courses. As suggested above, a number of elements already may be built in—

either consciously or unconsciously—to what evidence suggests are “good”
online courses (“good” in that they engage students and produce effective
learning outcomes). The MOOC phenomenon has shined a spotlight on the
capacity of instructional design to develop student engagement at a higher
level in lieu of an unscalable instructor presence. In traditional online courses,
adjunct faculty are increasingly pressured by well-intentioned administrators
to maintain close to 24/7 connectivity to provide what amounts to almost
“immediate corrective feedback.” MOOCs, typically featuring full-time fac-
ulty and massive enrollments, cannot rely on faculty connectivity and effort
to be the sole means of maintaining student engagement.
The industry is almost at the stage where it can assert that principles of
cognitive science and adaptive learning can contribute to developing student
engagement. A more intriguing question is whether gamification might pro-
vide a more comprehensive, generalizable, and applicable overview of the
possibilities for engagement.
The following chapters present practitioner experiments in this emerging
realm of gamification or, more specifically, gameful design. In review of these
examples we can ask questions about the incorporation of gamification in
courses, including
1. How are principles of gamification / gameful design incorporated into

selected courses?
2. What forces contribute to and limit the implementation of
gamification into the selected courses?
3. What are the potential effects on student engagement of gamified
online courses?
For each of the five reviewed courses, I interviewed the project lead (defined
as the main person in each case conceiving of the idea and driving its im-
plementation). Where possible, I also interviewed instructional designers
or developers involved in the build of the course and then faculty or the
instructor, who typically also played one of the other roles already men-
tioned. I interviewed students when they w
ere available and, if time and ac-
cess permitted, interviewed administrators at the institutions. Participants
were selected based on their availability and centrality to the project.
Given my initial thinking that gamification / gameful design might lead to
increased student engagement, I conducted the analyses as a form of expla-
How Did We Get H
ere? 43
nation building—an iterative process beginning with a theoretical statement,

refining it, revising the proposition, and repeating this process. In analyzing
my interview data, I used coding schemes to explore consistencies and incon-
sistencies within the interview narratives. My review included eyeballing—
the ocular scan method—proofing for words that stand out as unusual or
commonly occurring. This extended to what Bogdan and Biklen call the in-
traocular percussion test, “where you wait for patterns to hit you between the
eyes” (1982, 153).
I found that the chosen examples are all practitioner-driven, faculty-led
projects that were at first either off-radar or only loosely supported by their
host institutions. They show the value of “giving it a go” and demonstrate
that students appreciate any worthwhile effort. While not constituting un-
equivocal successes, they justify supporting future initiatives and provide
ideas for development.
CHAPTER THREE
The Fairy Tale MOOC
The University of South Florida (USF), motto Truth and Wisdom, is an American
metropolitan public research university located in Tampa, Florida. Established
in 1956, it was the first independent state university conceived, planned, and
built during the twentieth c entury. It employs 6,133 academic staff (over
1,700 instructional faculty) and enrolls close to 50,000 students, with ap-
proximately 36,000 of those at the undergraduate level. A member institute
of the State University System of Florida (the fourth-largest in the state), it is
made up of 14 colleges and offers more than 80 undergraduate majors and
more than 130 graduate, specialist, and doctoral degree programs. Classified by
the Carnegie Foundation as a top-tier research university, it has a proud his-
tory and placed 10th overall among all universities worldwide in 2011 in the
number of US patents granted, according to the Intellectual Property Owners
Association. Alumni include Pam Iorio (mayor of Tampa), Tony LaRussa,
Lauren Hutton, and Hulk Hogan.
USF’s 2014–15 undergraduate tuition costs w
ere $211.19 per credit hour for
in-state students and $575.01 per credit hour for out-of-state students, trans-
lating to total annual tuition of $6,410 for in-state and $17,324 for out-of-
state students. As of fall 2014, the student diversity profile of the university
consisted of 55% White, 12% African American, 21% Hispanic, 7% Asian/
Pacific Islander, and 0.16% American Indian. Four percent of students re-
ported two or more races, and 1 percent did not report.
Kevin Yee is Director for Teaching and Learning Excellence at USF, hav-
ing moved over from the University of Central Florida in 2012, switching
between his discipline, German (he holds a PhD in German Language and
Literature from the University of California, Irvine) and his vocation sup-
porting and leading technology-facilitated instruction. At USF, he offers fac-
ulty workshops and consultations, performs classroom observations, serves
as events coordinator for university-w ide conferences, and coordinates out-
The Fairy Tale MOOC 45
reach and training for adjunct faculty and graduate teaching assistants, among
many other duties. He continues to teach in the world languages program
and the honors college, and he has delivered graduate-
level courses on
course design and learning management system (LMS) pedagogy in online
and hybrid formats.
Prior to launching his fairy tales course, Yee pulled together a list of princi
ples of video games that he felt were relevant to gamification in an educa-
tional environment:
Display Progress
• Reward effort, not just success;
• Reward after fixed intervals (e.g., every five tokens) but also
randomly;
• Offer momentary rewards (“great job” flashes on screen) or persistent
rewards;
• Provide rewards in the form of badges—people are natural collectors;
• Use progress bar if not using a badge list; and
• Show progress summary not only when initially accomplished, but
in a global spot that is easy to access later (and visible publicly to
other participants).
Maximize Competition
• Motivation through innate competitiveness;
• Leaderboard; and
• Beware FERPA issues.
Calibrate Difficulty Carefully

• “Balance” issues—neither boring nor anxiety-inducing;
• Early, easy wins, then ratchet up difficulty;
• Add skills incrementally;
• Return to early skills with spaced repetition; and
• Boss levels.
Provide Diversions
• Mini-games reset the attention clock;
• Reward exploration via Easter eggs (example: humorous alt text on
images);
• Your word choices: “quests” rather than “objectives”;
• Allow for nonlinear (or branching) progress t oward the goal; and
46 Game On!
Figure 2. Screenshot from the Canvas-based Fairy Tales: Origins and Evolution of Princess
Stories MOOC. © Kevin Yee, University of South Florida; reproduced with permission.
• Where practical, embed games and other content rather than link
away.
Employ Narrative Elements

• Start with a hook (high concept, “elevator pitch”);
• Determine a central conflict that drives the storyline;
• Think in terms of setup, buildup, and payoff;
• Do not tell a story so much as construct a mystery; and
• Imagine characters, backstories, and use as many details as possible.
Yee took his theory into practice via USF’s first massive open online course,
or MOOC. Fairy Tales: Origins and Evolution of Princess Stories (figure 2) was
developed by Yee and offered over four weeks between July and August 2013.
With an initial enrollment of 1,200 students (and about another 200 who
joined midstream), a cohort of 107 (8%) completed the course, with comple-
tion defined as submitting all assessments. Students w
ere permitted to join
the course at any time during the offering.
Figure 3. Tweet from University of South Florida Human Resources promoting the Fairy
Tales MOOC. © Kevin Yee, University of South Florida; reproduced with permission.
Fairy Tales was a MOOC developed by the instructor himself on the Can-
vas platform with no major support or promotion from any of the recognized
MOOC providers like EdX or Coursera. The USF communications department
issued the following press release to support the launch:
TAMPA, Fla. (July 19, 2013)—A free online course offered by the University of
South Florida, “Fairy Tales: Origins and Evolution of Princess Stories,” affords
anyone in the world the opportunity to explore online learning. As the universi-
ty’s first MOOC (Massive Open Online Course), the four-week class starts Aug. 5
and explores the meaning of fairy tales and their relationship to modern society.
And tweeted about the new offering (figure 3).

Yee leveraged his personal networks and used word of mouth to promote the
project with a target of enrolling manageably large, rather than massive, num-
bers. Part of the reason that he wanted to develop and deliver the course was
that, given his need to be knowledgeable about teaching and learning in any
and all formats, he considered the project overall as job training. To an ex-
tent, his work was intended, as he put it, to “kick the tires” of both the Canvas
platform and the whole process of managing an open-enrollment MOOC
with larger numbers than would be typical for USF faculty. With the massive
surge of interest and (academic) press hype over MOOCs, he anticipated re-
quests in the near f uture for support from his faculty peers. For his pilot ver-
sion he had no specific target enrollment but built the course to be scalable
for anywhere between 50 and 50,000 participants. His initial hope was to
reach five figures, but he fell short of that with the overall registration of 1,400.
48 Game On!
Yee’s perfunctory experimentation with the technology and scale of a ge-

neric MOOC might have had some interesting results of itself, but his interest
in the concept of gamification compelled him to meld those two aspects,
which, in turn, more than doubled his own learning outcomes. His long-
standing interest in gamification as a mnemonic tool stemmed from his college
days in the late eighties when he realized that he was retaining more details
of the role-playing games of the day, such as Zelda, than of his studies. One
strong reminiscence about a game that he was playing in the late 1980s brought
back sharp memories of the game, “the story line, the invented histories and
all that stuff,” compared to subjects that he formally studied, about which he
could remember very little. This experience made him suspect that games
had potential for use in education. He came to realize, as he puts it, “not an
overly academic assertion . . . that because games are fun you care about them,
and when you care about them you are more likely to remember the things
you hear, the t hings you go through.”
A fter gaining his doctoral degree in German in 1997 and working for a
number of years as an adjunct professor, Yee shifted to work for a company
headquartered in Southern California named Interplay, a developer, pub-
lisher, and licensor of video game software. While at Interplay, he worked on
interpretation and cultural flavoring of American-produced video games for
release in foreign countries. Then in 2001 he returned to the world of aca-
demia, first as an adjunct teaching German and humanities and then, start-
ing in 2007, in faculty development. Over all that time he maintained his
interest in games and gamification but put the interest on hold against his
more immediate life duties, staying employed being primary, and the feel-
ing that the technology was not yet evolved enough to help him achieve his
goals. His interest in gamification as a possible enhancement to traditional
forms of education was rekindled prior to his work on this MOOC, particu-
larly through his observations of the development of smartphone technology
and the ubiquity of games in retail and social media generally. One key trig-
ger event was him observing his wife’s interest in the location-sharing iPhone
application FourSquare. Yee described how these observations helped him
realize that gamification principles had firmly made the leap to the corporate
world. In thinking about smartphone usage of gamification principles he re-
alized that there was nothing particularly new about gamification, but the
way that it was penetrating a wider swathe of society was significant. Describ-
ing his wife’s use of FourSquare he opined:
This is that technology where you check in and you tell your friends and the system
where you are located . . . you get some rewards, you get discounts in places where
you go a lot and eventually you get bragging rights in the form of mayorship when
you’re the one that checks in t here the most. So, that recognition that t here’s some-
thing in it for you to keep d
oing what are rote tasks, that is what I think has attracted
business’s attention and now more and more people are talking about what is gami-
fication and how we can use it.
Progressing from reflections on married harmony through to a similar line

of thinking with regard to parenthood, Yee saw these principles again in kin-
dergarten instructors’ distribution of gold stars and “most helpful student”
awards aimed to maintain order and attention among their charges. His final
day-job reflection, when the planets really aligned for him, was when he saw
instructors in traditional (face-to-face) higher education situations dividing their
classes, holding competitions, and keeping track of scores for the day. In these
cases, the activities w
ere rigidly finite; in his opinion, the instructors missed an
opportunity to provide longer-term, sustained motivation for the students. The
cumulative effect of seeing his wife, his c hildren, and students at his workplace
all dabbling in the world of gamification was stimulus enough for him to be-
gin planning his course. Given the concurrent rise in popularity of MOOCs
and Yee’s academic technology role, he designed a course so he could, in an in-
formed manner, advise other USF faculty members on what works and what
doesn’t in MOOCs generally. He saw an opportunity to experiment with engage-
ment normally not seen in online classes, explaining, “What I was trying to get
here was identified best practices; this was not an attempt to be scientific about
my approach. It was an exploratory attempt to see what does and d
oesn’t work
from a practice point of view of gamification, not so much from the metrics.”
He did find himself having to reassure some faculty regarding the fear that
they might be automated out of their c areers. As Yee puts it, “I think t here’s
always a role for your subject-matter experts to stay plugged in.” Continuing,
“most faculty have not been replaced, the LMS has become another tool to
use when thinking about the constant pedagogical issues of classroom man-
agement . . . of scaffolding material correctly and carefully for this audience—
the LMS just helps with that and gamification can do some of the same t hings.”
In d
oing so, his core questions became solid:
How do we get students motivated?

How do we get students caring?
50 Game On!
How do we get students reading and properly processing, putting all the
things in place they need to succeed?
He felt that gamification addressed all of the above without needing to

replace the faculty member.
Why Gamification?
Yee described seeing gamification becoming prevalent in many aspects of

society and, as he termed it, “penetrating today’s life.” When pushed further,
he reiterated his wife’s use of FourSquare and other gamified apps on her
smartphone but admitted that many of his reflections came retroactively as
he was in the process of developing the MOOC. His more succinct version,
with observations relegated to the subliminal, was that he simply decided
that the time was right to blend his passion and his career. As he embarked
on the project he acknowledged that the complexities and ambiguities of aca-
demia presented challenges in higher education that w
ere perhaps not as ob-
vious, or missing entirely, in corporate FourSquare or training gamification
projects. He was very sensitive to potential Federal Education Rights and Pri-
vacy Act (FERPA) issues, and given that the entire course build-out and im-
plementation was on his shoulders alone, he knew that he needed to develop
safeguarded and s imple means of ensuring compliance.
Yee reflected that, in early gamified courses such as his own, many willing
experimenters had to play multiple roles, particularly at less-resourced institu-
tions. The need to play multiple roles is partly due to the paucity of available
resources but also because these experimenters are creating and implementing
courses and course elements beyond the current support framework at their
institutions. This mapped to his own experience as the project lead, concomi-
tant with the responsibilities and skills he needed to develop, build, and
maintain the course while also updating it and acting as the class instructor.
Even as t here was no evidence of Yee being anything less than transparent
and communicative at his institution, he also represents the edgy “hacker-
instructor” who seems to revel in being a l ittle under the radar.
The meta-questions that initially motivated Yee and that he developed as
ongoing d
rivers for his work were:
How do we get students motivated to stay engaged with courses and

course materials?
How do we get students to care about their studies?
How do we get students to read and properly process academic courses?

How do we put all the things in place that w ill help them succeed?
In considering how he might increase student motivation, he posited that

a pop culture phenomenon called the Easter egg had potential to increase
student engagement with materials. Easter eggs, in the geeky gamer sense, are
typically intentional jokes, hidden messages, or features in a computer pro-
gram, movie, book, crossword, or other work that only dedicated participants
are ever likely to find. The earliest frequently referenced example of a hidden
in-joke buried away in an obscure section of the code (in other words, an Easter
egg) was in the 1979 Atari 2600 game Adventure. The game’s main programmer,
allegedly annoyed at the lack of official recognition for his development role
in the game, secreted the message “Created by Warren Robinett.” Players could
find this message if they directed a gray dot into a hidden room in the game.
Even further back, the Fairfield Channel F console, launched in 1976, fea-
tured a number of hidden messages. 1978’s Video Whizball (a version of Pong)
displayed the coder’s name (Bradley Reid-Selth) on screen if the player car-
ried out a series of complex moves at the end of the game.
Yee’s sense of the potential for Easter eggs came three or four months before
taking this task on, when he had just finished reading the novel Ready Player
One by Ernest Cline. As the book blurb relays, “In the year 2044, reality is an
ugly place. The only time teenage Wade Watts r eally feels alive is when he’s
jacked into the virtual utopia known as the OASIS. Wade’s devoted his life to
studying the puzzles hidden within this world’s digital confines—puzzles
that are based on their creator’s obsession with the pop culture of decades
past and that promise massive power and fortune to whoever can unlock
them.” Throughout the novel, the players solve puzzles and reveal Easter eggs
by virtue of an understanding of 1980’s cultural references. As a child of the
’80s, Yee was obviously hooked on the narrative, but what it really under-
lined for him was that p
eople lived the material in serv ice of unearthing the
Easter eggs. This suggested potential for the world of academia, where much
of an instructor’s challenge is in getting students to really engage with the
materials. Yee was also fascinated at the level of challenge that the text pro-
vided. He determined to make the Easter egg challenges harder and less obvi-
ous than just lying on the surface.
The emerging question of what actually constituted gamification encour-
aged Yee to experiment with a range of elements while feeling safe in the
52 Game On!
knowledge that the concept generally was yet to solidify into a definitive
model or set of rules. He reflected that he allowed his own personal whims and
interests to guide him in coalescing the principles of what made games and
activities interesting. He effectively shoehorned these elements and principles
into his own compendium-teaching model. This flexibility and laissez-faire
attitude encouraged him to explore a variety of elements, with the idea of
experimenting to see what worked. His desire to experiment with the format
was, in part, his reaction to the media frenzy about MOOCs (described by
John Hennessey, then president of Stanford, as the coming “MOOC tsunami”
[Auletta 2012]). Yee’s dual role at USF, encompassing not only his own teach-
ing but also the training and support of other instructors university-w ide in
pedagogy and technology, fueled his suspicion that USF faculty would soon
beat a path to his door seeking guidance as to how to implement a successful
MOOC. He was motivated to have a range of experiences and some quasi-
research-based findings to share with them. His hope was that the experience
and his learning would be useful for him to support faculty who might sub-
sequently be interested in delivering a MOOC.
Yee decided to build out his course on the Canvas LMS that USF had moved
to a year or so earlier so that he would learn through his own trial and error
what worked and what did not. He built the course with the idea that with
minimal adjustment and only basic technical expertise it could be repurposed
to run again with alternate subject matter. This notion of reusability or re-
purposing was part of Yee’s philosophy as a developer and supporter of faculty
activities. He felt that a more open platform, rather than overdesigned simu-
lations or more game-y games, would be of more or wider use to the institution.
As he put it, “It’s one thing to get a million-dollar grant to build a custom
video game environment that teaches accounting, but that’s not g
oing to
help your chemistry teacher.”
If it had not been for this secondary goal, Yee claims that he would have
tried to publish his MOOC on the more visible and richer Coursera platform,
which would have given him exposure to a much wider audience and likely
have resulted in more course registrants. It is worth reiterating that this was
not simply a MOOC for his own edification but rather a learning experience
for him, as a faculty developer and also as a pioneer paving the way for f uture
USF MOOCs. His prescience in sensing other USF instructors’ interest seems
to be validated by the USF press release announcing Yee’s MOOC, which con-
cluded, “A second free MOOC w ill begin Sept. 9, 2013 entitled, ‘Forums for a
Future,’ which discusses current societal issues that w
ill impact the f uture of
the world. Anyone at USF interested in offering a MOOC should contact . . .”
The parameters framing Yee’s work were that, while he was eager to experi-
ment with his personal interest in gamification, a lot of the course build had
to be simplistic and replicable by an instructor with limited technical skills.
Yee, with no formal gamification training, used simple HTML coding and a
good degree of creativity to build basic game elements into the Canvas-based
MOOC, allowing him to test theories and game principles that he had seen
in his nonacademic c areer. His thought process boiled down to w
hether the
gamified elements could promote engagement and student motivation.
His desire to keep to a low-tech implementation actually short-circuited
some of the tracking capabilities of Canvas and reduced his ability to record
student data on individual pages or learning objects. He built HTML pages in
Adobe Dreamweaver and uploaded them to Canvas, which rendered them
only as files without the regular tracking capabilities of the Canvas system.
He did this to maintain the aesthetic elements that he created using cascad-
ing style sheets. He described balancing process as an ongoing “war between
design and functionality,” including it in his personal debrief for the gamifi-
cation elements. Given his interest in gleaning better information from his
student data, Yee noted this inability to granularly track student progress in
the course as a critical lesson learned and a possible amendment for his sec-
ond run of the course.
Elements of Gamification
In identifying the key gamification elements of his MOOC experiment, Yee

focused first on the concept of competition. In explaining his perspective on
the value of competition, he connected it to the notion of reward as a means
of motivation, “People are more invested when there is competition, and I
think it’s important to show progress somehow. You c an’t just have competi-
tion that goes nowhere—then you’re just on a treadmill.”
Yee’s emphasis on competition and challenge formed the critical under-
pinning of his fairy tale MOOC. Competition and challenge provided a large
part of the impetus for students to engage with the academic, mostly text-
based materials. His plan was to document and display the fruits of this com-
petition on a fairly rudimentary student leaderboard built using HTML with
54 Game On!
JPEG images that he would paste in manually whenever he wanted to assign

a badge. The leaderboard for Yee was emblematic of academic-specific chal-
lenges not apparent in other participatory environments.
When you are an educator, you are thinking about other elements to this that are
not necessarily in every gamification model for businesses out there; FERPA, for in-
stance. I c an’t just put p
eople’s scores out on a leaderboard, so you have to end up
gamifying or badge-ifying t hings that are not worth points in the class so the list of
things that I am gamifying include stuff that’s not weekly grades. It’s more likely to
be things like “the first discussion post of the week” or the “best challenge tech of
the week.” I’ve challenged them [with that one] and they put up products basically.
“The best question or best answer on the discussion board,” “The most amount of
perfect scores on Easter egg quizzes for their team,” e
tc.
The MOOC design concept meant that courses and course elements had
to potentially accommodate tens of thousands of p
eople. Yee’s fairy tale
MOOC ultimately enrolled around 1,400 users, of which only a few more
than 100 persisted through to completion of the final exam. He was firm in
saying that he intended the design to be able to support up to 50,000 users.
Wanting to build in engagement and scalability, Yee implemented what he
called the “Harry Potter proxy protocol,” whereby individual effort yields
rewards for the whole house, as in the book/movie of the same name. Stu-
dents were grouped alphabetically with the hope of producing the dual benefit
of developing team spirit among the participants while reducing an instruc-
tor’s need to assess and reward on an individual basis. This Harry Potter proxy
protocol was based on the principle known as the “dependent hero contin-
gency,” where consequences are delivered to a group based on the perfor
mance of one member or a subset of members, as researched in the work of
Litow and Pumroy in 1975. The approach was intended to provide subtle peer
pressure without the demotivation (for some) of full-on competition by re-
placing it with a gentler co-desire not only to not let down, but also to im-
press, teammates.
This bunching of feedback and reward to teams rather than individuals
also had the course management effect of diminishing the impact of the
large numbers in the MOOC platform, thus reducing instructor load. Even
with that reduced load, however, Yee reported that he was unable to keep up
with the awards or even the initial design work of the numerous badges he
had intended to award (see examples in figure 4 below). As one student con-
structively commented in the student survey responses, “The badge system
Figure 4. Sample badges, developed but not implemented, in the USF MOOC. © Kevin
Yee, University of South Florida; reproduced with permission.
would have been g reat, and maybe it would help the professor to have an
assistant assigned just to do that job.”
Easter Eggs
The rationale for Easter eggs is that people have to engage with and go
through the content numerous times to locate more difficult eggs. This strat-
egy is basically employing a trick. The Easter egg hunt is a fun activity but
could produce academic results by promoting increased immersion in the
content. Many people do question whether hunting for Easter eggs actually
entails engaging with the content or merely looking between, over, or above
the content when searching for clues. The content in Yee’s course tended to
be s imple text but could also encompass other formats that students had to
access repetitively, such as watching videos multiple times or listening to au-
dio files over and over. Yee intentionally built in Easter eggs using an array of
simple coding techniques, including subliminal messages that flashed every
few seconds in a webcam lecture, the gradual revelation of a hidden URL, the
title tag of a picture providing a secret URL to visit, and URLs hidden in back-
ground images (deliberately faded) set on repeat. Yee felt it vital that the sec-
tions of the course featuring the Easter eggs w
ere carefully embedded in the
course content rather than hyperlinked out. As he states, “People are more
likely to click on t hese diversions when t hey’re right t here in front of them.”
He also noted that “People reacted in different ways—one user clicked back
37 times to one document—a three-page story. She was looking for Easter
eggs, but t here w
ere none in that document.” Yee even had an awesome Fight
Club rule for Easter eggs on the discussion boards. It read “First rule for Easter
egg hunts—no-one discusses Easter eggs on the discussion boards.”
Of the 16 students submitting comments to the USF survey (as mentioned
earlier, 36 students completed the ratings) on all aspects of the course, 10
56 Game On!
(62.5%) commented on the Easter eggs. Eight of these 10 comments were

positive. Representative comments include:
The course was made more fun by the fact that we had virtual Easter egg
hunts.
I was quite surprised of the effect on the Easter eggs by myself (and
others); it really worked.
The Easter eggs were awesome as a gamer I LOVE Easter eggs in games.
The game aspect was definitely interesting. The Easter egg hunt was
wonderful!
As the “37 times” quote from Yee above illustrates, the course data cap-
tured the behavior of some students who revisited course content multiple
times in pursuit of Easter eggs. The Easter eggs irritated a few students (2 of 16
completing surveys), and there was no way of knowing whether any students
who dropped the course before submitting surveys were also turned off by
the activity or its degree of difficulty. Yee felt, from his rudimentary tracking
of course statistics, that students might have dropped off at certain places in
the course specifically because of frustration at their inability to find a cer-
tain Easter egg.
The data is not specific enough to say exactly where they fell off—to one specific
item or one specific Easter egg. I w
ill say that one specific Easter egg generated a
ton of email from students who couldn’t find it. It was obscure enough that a ton of
people sent me emails. T
here is a possibility that p
eople dropped off as that was too
hard. I went into this thinking Easter eggs are bonus content—who cares if you c an’t
find it, but it could be that p
eople cared enough about the Easter eggs that it made
them stop coming to the class in general.
Narrative Elements
Yee intended to include a narrative element in the course whereby the par-
ticipants would receive motivating thematic text, in addition to badging
awards, describing their progress in the world of the fairy tale MOOC. His
operating metaphor was the carnival game where you throw a ball and it
lands in a scoring hole giving you three points, four points, five points, or
zero points, and your horse moves along the back wall of the carnival booth
the requisite number of spaces. What Yee intended was that the group earn-
ing the most badges would have “awesome things happen to their team in
the storyline that week” (akin to their h

orse moving many spaces), whereas the
group earning the medium amount of badges would have “a medium thing
happen to them that week in the storyline.” As he put it, “the story would
lurch towards some conclusion that I would not prearrange.”
The narrative element was another part of Yee’s original plan that he was
not able to implement fully. Part of the challenge that he saw in developing the
narrative was the complexity of a branching storyline accounting for every
contingency. Even with only four weeks of branching, a system with four or
five possible outcomes for each team each week could amount to more than 200
independent outcomes, with each possible path involving creative, instructor-
developed narrative twists pending each group’s performance. Despite attempted
simplifications, Yee realized that, given his other work/life obligations, he
would be unable to commit the needed time to generate worthwhile narra-
tive and cancelled it as a course element prior to the start date. Taking a posi-
tive from this shortcoming, the narrative-free course provided a more focused
environment for him to test out the elements he did implement (Easter eggs
and team competition). Nonetheless, eliminating the narrative elements re-
duced the breadth of his experimentation. One student who had discussed the
narrative aspect with Yee concluded, “I do wish the competition aspect had
worked out, but if I had to choose between the individual challenge of the eggs
and the team competition, I would go for the individual challenge each time.”
Challenge
When generalizing on what makes a game bad or good irrespective of delivery
format, the instructor returned to the idea that presenting the appropriate
level of challenge is essential. “What makes a game bad is if it’s got balance
issues—if it’s unbalanced. If it’s too hard, it’s anxiety inducing, if it’s too easy,
it’s boring. You need exactly the right difficulty, early easy wins and then you
ratchet up the difficulty and you use the skills one at a time. It’s very much
like education, you learn something, you master it and then you go onto the
next t hing.” His student survey comments seemed to accentuate the critical
aspect of what Yee called the “Goldilocks” effect of making challenges “not
too easy, not too difficult, but just right.” One student indicated in her re-
sponses to the USF survey that the activities w
ere, at times, too challenging,
“Finding all of the game elements was a little frustrating. I was unable to
locate one [Easter egg], but I believe that it is more due to my way of thinking
than the difficulty of the task.” Another student remarked, “I had a lot of
58 Game On!
problems with the Easter eggs. Still c an’t find them. W

ill have to look at the
cheat sheet!”
In addition to the above, Yee included technical challenges to entice stu-
dents to try new t hings. In the first week, for instance, he encouraged students
to develop a short video explaining why they were interested in taking the
course. Many students shared that this was their first experience developing
multimedia and that it had been a challenge for them. One student’s survey
response reflected positively on the role of the technological challenges, “[I]
loved that Dr. Yee incorporated new technology into the course. With each of
the technology challenges I learned something new and hopefully I can ap-
ply my new knowledge to my current or f uture job.”
When reviewing the issue of challenge in the MOOC, Yee concluded that
all instructors—but particularly t hose working on gamified courses—must con-
sider balance issues and make activities neither boring nor anxiety-inducing.
Instructors and course developers should offer early, easy wins and then ratchet
up the difficulty. In terms of using challenge to increase student information
retention, he suggests adding skills incrementally, returning to early skills
with spaced repetition, and implementing “boss levels” (a gaming term that
describes a challenge analogous to that of traditional final exams). Boss levels
are summative ultimate challenges introduced once students have bought in,
are committed, and (the developer is confident) will spend substantial amounts
of time trying to “defeat an e nemy” utilizing all skills and experiences to that
point learned in the game/course.
Outcomes
Of 1,400 course starters, 400 persisted beyond the first week of the course
(defined as attempting the second assessment), and 107 completed the final
exam. Of the group of completers, 36 completed surveys that w
ere distrib-
uted in the final week of the course through the Canvas platform. Yee’s sur-
vey featured 10 fixed-response questions asking students to indicate their
agreement on a rating scale of 1to 5. T
here was also one section for additional
commentary introduced thus, “This course is being studied for its application
of game principles to education. Please provide any additional comments about
the course you feel are relevant to this study.” The survey also included six op-
tional demographic questions.
The 36 respondents w
ere predominately female (82%), the age spread
was wide (figure 5), and the majority of participants were college educated
12
10
0
17 or 18–22 23–29 30–39 40–49 50 or
under older
Figure 5. Age of participants in the USF Fairy Tales MOOC (n = 36). Note: Data gleaned
from student surveys conducted by Kevin Yee of USF; used with permission.
14
12
10
0
High school Some college Bachelor's Master's Doctoral
or degree degree degree
equivalent
Figure 6. Academic background of participants in the USF Fairy Tales MOOC (n = 36).
Note: Data gleaned from student surveys conducted by Kevin Yee of USF; used with
permission.
(figure 6). Two-thirds (68%) of the respondents w

ere participating from North
America and 24% from Europe. There was a wide range of declared incomes
(figure 7) in the smaller subset (n = 22) disclosing that information.
The course, as a w
hole, was rated as very enjoyable (4.44 out of 5), and the
inventiveness of the instruction methods was appreciated (4.15 out of 5).
Those students completing the survey claimed to have learned a lot (4.26).
60 Game On!
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
00
0
99
99
99
99
00
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9,
9,
9,
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$2
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Figure 7. Family income of participants in the USF Fairy Tales MOOC (n = 36). Note: Data
gleaned from student surveys conducted by Kevin Yee of USF; used with permission.
The response to the question of whether they learned more in this course
than in “most other online courses” was rated lower, although still t oward the
positive (3.26).
Faculty Role
Yee acknowledged that the time it takes a faculty member to plan out a gami-
fied course is likely to be more substantial than for a typical online course.
Bearing in mind that Yee is an experienced designer and deliverer of online
courses, his comments are instructive. “Development was a minimum of 40
hours—probably more like 80 hours of effort. Keep in mind that I’m fluent in
HTML and a power user of the LMS so a regular faculty member would spend
probably twice as much time. Implementation was honestly only 2–5 hours
per week. Next time I do this that w ill be higher.”
His main regret from the experience was his inability to fully support and
implement his gamification elements. He emphasized the need for faculty
and developers in gamified/online courses, but in MOOCs particularly, to
think carefully about manual processes in courses that need consistent atten-
tion on the instructor’s behalf. Yee’s hope is that early pioneers w ill work
with their successors in mind to build and develop scalable, replicable mod-
els so that not everyone is starting with a blank slate. As Yee notes, “Scalabil-
ity is very much part of my daily vocabulary as a faculty developer, and I
built what I did with the MOOC with this in mind.”
Yee also commented on the need for sustained faculty visibility to users in
the course as something that is essential irrespective of format (traditional
online vs. MOOC) and its degree of gamification (from none to extensive).
The amount of faculty presence is a common concern in traditional online
courses. Gamification may, Yee feels, exacerbate this problem by adding other
elements to update besides the common challenges of responding to discus-
sion board posts, grading assignments and hosting synchronous sessions. Yee
candidly reflected on his own inability to maintain a consistent presence in
the class and how this ultimately hurt the class dynamic and, more likely
than not, student completion. “Normally speaking, what I would have done
was have way more interactive videos every week talking about what their
discussion board posts had been and giving very customized individual feed-
back. I think that it, as much as anything was why they stopped checking in
after week one. We had had a full third of people there week one and then
they didn’t finish week two and I think that’s because I didn’t give them a lot
of sense that I was present in the class between weeks one and two.”
Although Yee cannot directly prove, based on the system data he could
get from his Canvas build, that his gamification/gameful design efforts in-
creased student engagement, the student enjoyment and repeated reading of
content suggests that conclusion. Student survey responses show that many
of those students who stuck around to the end loved the Easter egg compo-
nent of it. As Yee concludes, “For the p
eople it [the gamified course/game ele
ments] worked on, it worked very well. What we can’t say is that it worked on
everybody.” He recognized that a logical next step would be to move to a 1x2
research design, splitting the class and offering the same content to both but
with one group receiving gamified elements. As described earlier, the nature
of his first attempted build (including the way he built out his content in the
Canvas system) hampered data collection. “What’s not captured in the data
is how many p
eople kept reading week by week but stopped filling in the
quizzes. And you could maybe guess at it with class-w ide statistics data look-
ing at how many people saw the pages.”
It seems likely that a revised version of Yee’s course with more instructor
time to connect and update the game elements as well as enhanced tracking
ability would be a valuable exercise given what look like promising initial
ideas. Yee’s fairy tale MOOC illustrated the potential for a creative instructor
who is willing to take a few risks to implement technically simple game ele
ments into a course. Participants’ survey comments described the course as
62 Game On!
engaging and reported that the course encouraged interaction with what
could otherw ise be quite standard text-based content. In Yee’s opinion, for
those for whom the course worked, it worked very well. He suggested that gami-
fication might especially benefit academically lower-level students. Yee expands
on this in his review of the MOOC, “I didn’t come to gamification with a target
population in mind, yet . . . it may be that fragile learners might be induced to
find and file away education differently . . . have a different approach and atti-
tude to education if it w
ere to grab their attention in a different manner.”
Yee extended his thinking to a more philosophical level when contem-
plating how gamification might be used to modify traditional academia and
whether this is actually a good t hing to do. He speculated that gamification
might pander to the superficiality of some of today’s students rather than
calling them on it by bringing them up to our concept of education. Philo-
sophically he continued, “It’s an open question as to w
hether I’m d
oing more
harm than good by meeting that student halfway, or more than halfway, in
our various definitions of what education means.” While addressing the
question of gamification’s potential to support students who have tradition-
ally struggled to engage with higher education he commented, “It could be
that a fragile learner could be more easily met by this—it’s a different politi
cal question w
hether you want a fragile learner to be met by this—perhaps a
special education teacher or something could be done with certain intents
very well. It probably does lend itself particularly well to certain contexts bet-
ter than o
thers.”
Student Comments
I learned a lot about the fairy tales, which I never think a lot before. And
at the same time, I know a lot of history about t hose stories and
authors. It is g
reat!
I was quite surprised of the effect on the Easter eggs by myself (and
others); it really worked. Too bad the badges d
idn’t work, but I guess
this group of students was more interested in the search than in
status. Always good to check!
The Easter eggs were awesome as a gamer I LOVE Easter eggs in games.
I really enjoyed being able to jump in to a course like this with using the
topic of fairy tales. The only thing I had trouble was with finding all
the hidden Easter eggs. I enjoyed being able to learn and use other
websites to do projects.
Finding all of the game elements was a l ittle frustrating. I was unable to
locate one, but I believe that it is more due to my way of thinking
than the difficulty of the task.
I did not find any Easter eggs. I had no idea where to start or what to look
for.
The game aspect was definitely interesting. The Easter egg hunt was
wonderful! I do wish the competition aspect had worked out but if I
had to choose between the individual challenge of the eggs and the
team competition I would go for the individual challenge each
time.
I liked it I learned a lot about the other fairy tales besides the Disney
ones.
Had a lot of problems with the Easter eggs. Still c an’t find them. W
ill
have to look at the cheat sheet! Loved that Dr. Yee incorporated new
technology into the course. With each of the technology challenges
I learned something new and hopefully I can apply my new knowl-
edge to my current or f uture job.
The course aided in the exercise of critical thinking and application of
multiple paradigms to a single question.
It was made more fun by the fact that we had virtual Easter egg hunts.
The badge system would have been g
reat and maybe it would help
the professor to have an assistant assigned just to do that job.
The badges could have been fun, but t here should have been announce-
ments when badges w
ere posted and more explanation about them
(i.e. if t here is a best comment give a link to the comment). The
Easter egg hunt was fun u
ntil I got to the last module. I cannot make
the one (I suspect two) work with the hidden text no m
atter how
many permutations I try, and I d
on’t own a smartphone or anything
that would read a QR code. Plus, the file with Easter egg spoilers
won’t load e ither, and now it is no longer fun.
I enjoyed being able to use a lot of new web sites that I d
idn’t know about
to do projects.
It should be nice if we got [all] t hose game elements we w
ere promised.
I love it, it has been wonderful.
For non-native English is difficult following videos without subtitles and
most activities are dedicated to people who control speaking in this
language.
64 Game On!
Yee’s candid experimentation, his can-do attitude, and his infectious en-
thusiasm w
ere certainly huge assets. As w
e’ll see with other experiments in
subsequent chapters, the students who provided feedback w
ere extremely
supportive of his efforts. His MOOC retained around twice as many students
as was typical at the time, and I, personally, learned a lot about fairy tales—
some of it quite nasty (one sister in Cinderella actually cuts off her big toe
and part of her heel to try and fit into the glass slipper in the B
rothers Grimm
version).
Where Are They Now?
In mid-May 2016, I spoke with Dr. Yee to see where he had got to with the fairy tales proj
ect. My questions were: How has the project evolved? Has it grown or atrophied at the
institution?
BELL —So as time has passed, what happened with your project, the Fairy Tale MOOC?
Did it run again? Did you tweak it? What happened with the interest, both yours
and institutionally? Where you are at with gameful design, gamification?
YEE —
So as you know, mine was a little higher than normal completion rates for a
MOOC, and that was useful. First, some backup for why I had offered that particular
MOOC. The topic w
asn’t new to me, nor was gamification as an idea. Our university
had not done any MOOCs at the time (around 2014), and p
eople were worried that
MOOCs were about to sweep or take over. I wanted to be in a stronger position to
protect the university, and I feel that there is no substitute for doing something
yourself and seeing what happens. So that was sort of the major motivation for me
rather than the research specifically into the gamification side. Also, I had done a
MAGNA seminar on gamification at one point [MAGNA is a for-profit player in fac-
ulty professional development]. So I had a fairly established faculty-facing, hour-
long presentation as to what gamification means for me and the principles that I
prescribe to it. I have my own six principles for the things we want to steal from
games.
That is a long way of explaining that I d
idn’t pick up the MOOC beyond that
second run because it’s not a priority for what we do. Now I’m a faculty member I’m
[on call twelve months a year] . . . my main job is to know t hings and do t hings so
that we can help faculty become more effective, it’s not to teach MOOCs. So I
haven’t returned to it for that. Now, in terms of gamification, I do teach about once
a year, but lately what I’ve been teaching is an honors class with only about 20 stu-
dents. Honors students are already motivated. This last year I was teaching the topic
[not fairy tales but] Disney World. The title of the class was Deconstructing Disney
World. With a topic like that they really don’t need the external motivation that
gamification provides because there’s enough inherent motivation in it, so it wasn’t
my first thought to do it.
Now there is, however, an answer for how it has transmogrified in my brain or
how I have started to do things differently with gamification. I have started to use
some of t hose principles in what we do in faculty development; the ways in which
we not only engage faculty but keep them interested in our longer events. We have
a two-day event called Summer Teaching Symposium (STS). We don’t offer a sti-
pend, a cash stipend, for p
eople to come to this, so it has to be useful or they w
on’t
come back, and, to some extent, it has to have some fun elements to it. So we have
kind of evolved into a position where we make the event not just a staid instructor-
level very formal sort of “Go to workshops [and] learn from this and that.” It has
much more of a fun vibe, so your nametag when you get it comes with games built
into it. There’s a picture of a particular kind of chocolate in the corner. Then there’s
code in the corner down h
ere that says A and then 17-2 or something like that, and
then over in the other corner there’s a word written, like frost. And they all represent
different games that are to be used to interact with each other during the course of
the two days. So the person with frost has to find someone e
lse’s nametag (they’re
all custom) with a word that can go with frost to form a combination word. Frost and
house wouldn’t go together, but someone with frost could go with someone with
the word bite to make frostbite. When they meet a person where the names are com-
patible, then they interview each other about their best teaching trick—that sort
of thing.
I d
on’t know that it follows necessarily my principles of gamification to force
students to do work that is otherwise boring to them, but what it does do is it gen-
erates interest in the event and keeps things fresh. Again, it being a faculty event, I
wouldn’t do it that way with students, I don’t think. So there’s a fair amount of that,
and it turns out the very next year’s STS topic is going to be gamification. This year
was the flipped classroom—how you flip classrooms, why you do it, what are the
problems you have, and how you surmount t hose—all of that stuff.
BELL —A re you taking a lead in that—the gamification? Or is that something that has
come up organically at the institution?
YEE —No, the event is ours. I’m the director of the office, so I think you can probably
safely say it’s just an executive decision by me that this last year was going to be the
flipped class and that next year w
ill be gamification. So the reason why? I d
on’t
know, I guess t here are a c ouple of reasons why. First, it’s something that we, or at
66 Game On!
least I, have a lot of experience in doing, and most faculty don’t know what it is or
how to do it. So it becomes a topic that is kind of ripe for a two-day intensive look
at it with lots of breakouts. And, of course, the event itself w
ill be gamified . . . just
as the flipped classroom event was flipped . . . We have a fairly well produced trailer
for what STS 4 will look like. T
here’s a Harry Potter element to it, so that we ended
up using music from one of the Harry Potter trailers and overlaid images of students
basically not being plugged in and texting and all those other things. We’re sug-
gesting that there are principles of games that we could steal that would make things
more interesting in the classroom. The Harry Potter connection is how we will gam-
ify the event. We are going to sort our faculty into four Harry Potter h
ouses and
provide “five points for Gryffindor,” e
tc., when they do something good in one of
these breakouts.
BELL —That was one of your key principles, w
asn’t it? The dependent hero contingency—
the Harry Potter principle of engendering, whether it’s peer pressure or team spirit
or whatever?
YEE —Yes, I think for me the Harry Potter idea (and you might as well just use the a ctual
Harry Potter—right?) came about more from a logistical point of view because there
is not automation in the LMS. Actually, Blackboard may have it now. We’ve been on
Canvas for a while, and Blackboard does have badges of some sort built in. But
because of the lack of automation in the LMS level, the generic principle is one of
proxy. You do something good your w
hole team benefits, because I’m not keeping
a gigantic t able with 300 people’s scores.
BELL —That makes sense. So back to the MOOC experiment—you said you ran it twice
in quick succession. Did you tweak anything between runs? Did you ramp anything
up or scale it down?
YEE —I actually have to report that term, and this is why there was no third MOOC. I
ended up getting even busier with the day job than I was even first time around. The
first time around, what happened was it was only a four-week MOOC, and about
three weeks into it I started r unning into logistical challenges. I d
idn’t have enough
hours in the day to do the gamified parts of it, and so a couple of the badges were
just not awarded . . . or I guess they w
ere, but they w
ere done very late in the cycle
each time. And so I felt like I w
asn’t really making as much of a presence in the dis-
cussion boards as I had wanted to, and it ended up becoming a stealth experiment
into how much you could automate a MOOC. By the second time around I did it I
had even less presence week to week, and still t hings ran. The Easter egg hunts still
continued. People still reported like they did with the first one that they were in-
tensely interested in finding all the Easter eggs, and that really drove them to read
things multiple times. So all of that continued, but sort of the house challenge—
where the first person who posts a question this week gets a badge or whatever,
that kind of thing—the second time around some of those things just did not get
awarded because I just was not finding the time within the workweek to do it. So
out of that guilt I did not try to run it again.
BELL —So your MOOC stalled a little. You do have the faculty development piece. The
class you are teaching you say you don’t see the need to implement. Do you have
any other plans to implement anything gamified on your campus?
YEE —No. You know, if this were a phone call in two years’ time—that would be a year
after we do our STS event on gamification—I would be willing to bet there will be
some faculty on campus who are trying to develop some version of this. Unfortu-
nately, I don’t have much I can share with you now just b
ecause . . . we have a mil-
lion things we try to push, and t here a million things I try to make myself an expert
on, and gamification is only one of them. If I was a nine-month faculty member I
probably would have taken that topic or a similar one and said, “this is my niche,”
and kept publishing on it, but that’s not my situation.
BELL —
So obviously with your work you are generating a good degree of interest on
your campus. Have you been seeing or hearing concerns over trivializing or from
faculty that when you gamify your course it makes my (traditional) course seem
even more boring by contrast. Have you had any of that kind of pushback?
YEE —Yes. When I give my regular one-hour workshops on gamification—which I have
done over the years—there are three main concerns that I hear most frequently.
One is about trivialization, one is about lack of universality—what you just said—
like “if my colleague d
oesn’t do this,” and the third, which is the deadliest of them,
is that we are not actually addressing core motivation. What w
e’re d
oing is actu-
ally tricking the students into doing something. If you were to look into industry
definitions of gamification it would be something along the lines of (take Four-
Square) where if you get people to check in to here they become mayor, so there’s
something in it for them. In the meantime, Starbucks can now offer you a coupon
for being nearby, that sort of thing. So the industry definition of gamification is
often about taking a boring or routine process and making it fun. But that implies
that what we’re teaching them in the classrooms is boring or routine, and gamifi-
cation d
oesn’t really fix that. To some extent it’s a critical flaw to what we do as
gamification.
So what does it mean? Well I d
on’t purport to have all of t hose answers, but what
it might mean is that gamification serves to create some initial interest after which,
theoretically, they have bought in to the a ctual inherent content itself. Now they
68 Game On!
might sense a reason for memorizing something like all the bones in the body in
biology b
ecause it’s become interesting in and of itself; the game was a means to an
end. My background is actually in languages—I have a PhD in German—so when I
teach German classes we have always, since the beginning of time, done some ver-
sion of games within classes to make t hings more interesting. So the way you mem-
orize certain prepositions can be done to the tune of, say, “Twinkle, Twinkle L ittle
Star.” So that conversion of a game gets you somewhere towards them knowing it
and remembering it, and now they care about t hese other, bigger t hings within the
discipline. That’s a little bit different from d
oing a semester-long Harry Potter type
thing.
You know, I meet some faculty who are willing to give that ground where they
say, “So what if it’s purely extrinsic?” Let’s say it is. There’s nothing intrinsic about it,
but they come to class and they end up learning something as a result of it . . . even
though I haven’t turned them on to the world of calculus, but they got through it
and they enjoyed the class and [it received] good evaluations and they actually
learned something. And maybe they d
on’t like it, or maybe they like it for the wrong
reasons, but at least they got through my class.
BELL —A nd you d
on’t hold to the trivialization argument e
ither then, for similar reasons,
I guess? It d
oesn’t m
atter why they are engaged so long as they are?
YEE —No, that’s a really good question, and I think that cuts to the heart of a style ques-
tion. I d
on’t see that as trivialization—as kindergartenization—that it seems beneath us
as faculty members at a college level, that we would resort to doing this through a
game lens. Why d
on’t we just approach this as adults? The bigger problem is not so
much the faculty pushback on that as it is faculty recognizing that there will be a
subset of students who w
ill push back on that. Gamification actually speaks to the
lowest common denominator of students, the ones who will be the least likely to
be engaged. To some extent it r eally is an imposition to the p
eople who are already
engaged for intrinsic reasons. You know, “Now you have to go through this game
element.” “Well, what game element? Can we please talk about the bones in the
body and how they interact with each other?”
BELL —At least one of my other practitioners said almost the same t hing, that it’s a hook
to get students to the level of engagement to where they are hooked by the subject
area.
YEE —
Well, to use the flipping analogy as well, there are degrees of implementation
here. So with the flipped classroom you can flip five minutes and then create five
minutes’ time during the lecture to do something different—you didn’t do very
much. So the game version of that is stealing . . . one of my principles is to leverage
competition. Students are, generally speaking, looking for a chance to be competi-

tive with each other, literally just for the hell of it. You d
on’t have to give them prizes
or anything, just, like, “This half of the class won today,” they eat that up. So can
you turn . . . that moment when you are getting a review into a game where they
have to call out the right their answers based on what side of the room they are on.
That’s stealing some of the principles of gamification without making it a semester-
long thing. You know, it makes today a little raucous, makes today maybe a little bit
less staid and boring, but it’s not a big jump from what p
eople already do now. Sort
of microimplementations of gaming.
BELL —So clearly your interest is still t here. What would it take to make this r eally catch
fire at USF?
YEE —You never r eally know in faculty development what it will take. So what you hope
is that the message itself will resonate enough that people will start doing it. That’s
why we have it [in the STS], is that we hope faculty will just say, “We’ve heard of this
flipping thing and at the STS I find out that it’s not too hard and there are ways to
get it wrong but it’s generally quite safe to try,” so they nibble at the edges. So what
you’re talking about is culture change, and there’s a body of literature around cul-
ture change, and much of it suggests it’s hard, it takes a long time, it happens via
individual champions, and sometimes it’s political, yes. So, politically, to do it at the
first-year experience class would mean that the person in charge [of] the first-year
experience class would have to be convinced that it’s a good thing. That would be a
single attempt to convince someone. I think in our case, w
e’re g
oing to start at the
STS because that’s where the faculty themselves are. We’re actually restructuring
these days . . . the units like student affairs and undergraduate studies w
ill be com-
bining to some extent, so the first-year experience class may be being looked at
again. That might be an opportunity there to raise my hand and to say, “Let’s look
at this gamification thing again,” so you just never really know what’s going to catch
on—or which of the various methods.
You mentioned money—does course redesign pay? Sometimes, but we’ve tended
not to incentivize around money out of my office for a couple of reasons. It creates
expectation, and it’s also, to some extent, the wrong metaphor. I think faculty
should be revisiting their classes all the time, and they shouldn’t need to be paid to
do that. It’s a little bit like giving faculty members five dollars every time they brush
their teeth—they shouldn’t be paid for doing that.
BELL —A ny other reflections? Anything else you are seeing that you think exciting?
YEE —I’ve been reading Karl Kapp and Michelle Dickey, so whenever brochures come
out with books I do tend to review and try to stay aware of them. W
e’re going to
70 Game On!
start planning now based on the literature and revised research—we have 11 months
to plan and prepare for the next STS.
BELL —Do you still play games? What are you playing at the moment?
YEE —
I’m playing a Steam game right now called Dungeon Defender II, and I’ve been
playing Battlefield 4 on the Xbox when the kids are not awake (because it’s not a
kid-appropriate title). Dungeon Defender II is, like many STEAM games, free to play.
It’s multiplayer and it’s kind of a tower defense meets platform game. So you have
things you have to shoot—your enemies—because your towers are not strong
enough to do it by themselves, and so it’s multiplayer, multipath tower defense with
shooting. And you switch character roles so y ou’re different classes (and you can
switch in the m
iddle of a level)—might be good for t hese kinds of flying t hings, or
these towers are strong but this has the best ranged attack, whatever this stuff is. It’s
actually—my 13-year-old started playing it, and now I play it with him—it’s a f amily
thing that we do.
BELL —That’s g
reat, so y ou’re keeping your sense of fun and youth . . .
YEE —
Yeah. One of the things I did recently, actually, was to bring into my office my
games . . . the ones I rocked out on back in the day. It’s become part of the position-
ing or the branding of the office is that, you know, I’ve got experience in the gam-
ing industry, so I’m g
oing to leverage that.
BELL —Well, thanks so much. It’s great to catch up and great that you’re still working on
this and thinking about this.
YEE —Yes, it’s lower-level and more on the faculty development side of t hings, but that
is the main job, so that’s where I have to keep it for now.
BELL —I had a g
reat experience working with you, and I can report that it worked on
me. I can report that my retention of fairy tale history and genesis is still strong. My
daughters thank you. Keep in touch.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Hero’s Journey
In bucolic Durham, New Hampshire, the picturesque campus of the Univer-

sity of New Hampshire (UNH) provides a scenic backdrop to some innovative
programming and instruction. The UNH catalog describes economics as
the study of how societies organize themselves to produce goods and serv ices
and to distribute t hose products among the members of society. In the modern
world, a combination of market forces, public policies and social customs per-
form these basic economic tasks. Economists use concepts, models and data to
analyze efficiency of resource use, fairness of economic outcomes and develop-
ment of global and national economies.
The department chair and instructor, Neil Niman, has gone beyond the
typical bounds of a standard economics class (figure 8). He provides a snapshot
illustrating underpinnings to his philosophy of narrative gamification, quot-
ing Lydia Plowman’s paper “Narrative, Linearity and Interactivity: Making
Sense of Interactive Multimedia,” “Narrative isn’t just a shaping device: it helps
us think, remember, communicate and make sense of ourselves and the world.
The role of narrative is not therefore simply aesthetic; it is central to our cog-
nition from earliest childhood” (1996, 96). For a variety of reasons, and to a
variety of ends, as presented in this chapter, Niman runs with this concept to
address the challenge of helping (self-declared) nontechnical/math-phobic
students succeed in his class.
Background
UNH was founded and incorporated in 1866 as the New Hampshire College
of Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts, a land grant subsidiary of Dartmouth
College in Hanover, New Hampshire (officially associated with Dartmouth
and overseen by their president). Dartmouth is the smallest of the Ivy League
schools and is famous for its selectivity, for its nearly 250-year history, and for
72 Game On!
Figure 8. Screenshot: Support website interface for the University of New Hampshire
EconJourney course. Reproduced with permission of Neil Niman, University of New
Hampshire.
serving as part of the inspiration (the Alpha Delta Phi fraternity) for National
Lampoon’s Animal House. The co-writer of the, “To-ga-To-ga” / “Fat, drunk and
stupid is no way to go through life, son,” comedy, Chris Miller, is a Dartmouth
graduate, class of 1963.
In 1891, following the bequeathal of farm and land assets by Durham resi-
dent Benjamin Thompson, the college’s move to Durham was approved. In
1923 the college’s name was changed to the University of New Hampshire.
UNH is home for over 15,000 students and runs the oldest endowed sustain-
ability program in higher education in the nation. In 2012, UNH was named
the sixth “coolest school” in the country by Sierra magazine for its efforts in
sustainability. Tuition and fees for in-state students were $17,624 in 2016,
$31,424 for out-of-state students, and room and board w
ere around $10,000
for undergraduates. Famous alums include John Irving, Academy Award–
winning screenwriter and novelist; Carlton Fisk, professional baseball player
and inductee into the Baseball Hall of Fame; three former governors of New
The Hero’s Journey 73
Hampshire; and over 20 professional hockey players graduating from UNH’s

famous Wildcats team.
Niman studied economics at the University of California, Santa Cruz, and
The University of Texas at Austin. He now serves as the associate dean of aca-
demic programs at UNH. At the time of the initial course development in
2012 he served as the chair of the Department of Economics at UNH and
was preparing for the inaugural launch of a revamped Microeconomics 101
course. His class was typically made up of undergraduate students from a va-
riety of disciplines, many with a built-in affinity and ability with regard to the
discipline, but others with no natural disposition toward logic, rules, math,
and related concepts. He employed a number of graduate assistants (GAs),
one of whom, “StoryCoach” Jennifer Trudeau, a fifth-year PhD student in the
same department, described the makeup of the class. She notes that there are
a large proportion of students in the class:
Who aren’t necessarily the traditional economics students, a lot of economics stu-
dents are logic based, number-kind of, applied math p
eople . . . for t hose students
who come in . . . maybe they’re in marketing or advertising and they have a more
creative brain and they like to exercise those skills, and you wouldn’t typically get
that in an economics class necessarily b
ecause it’s logic, rules, math and concepts.
Trudeau’s explanation introduces the concept of melding creative individuals

and personal flavor to a microeconomics class environment focused on con-
crete facts, logic, and rules. For students to succeed, these facts and rules
must be memorized and reapplied when analyzing and implementing princi
ples of microeconomics beyond the classroom. Niman picked up on this and
explained why the “story” has become central to his thinking about creating
an engaging and motivating educational experience:
Stories are the way we communicate; stories are the way that we raise our c hildren;
stories are something that we do e
very moment of our life, especially now with this
whole social media revolution. And so, if we’ve trained people to become storytell-
ers, or storytelling emerges as part of our normal way of life, d
oesn’t it make sense
that learning should incorporate t hose skills?
He sees the role of narrative as a multifaceted communication that develops,

as he puts it, “organically,” blossoming into “the student’s imagination” on a
framework that we’ve constructed. His hope is that in this model the student,
with guidance, becomes vested, which makes this a more meaningful learning
74 Game On!
experience. The idea of co-creation of narrative to illustrate and frame con-

cepts and key course elements became the signature feature of his course.
Niman and Trudeau implemented a form of gamification with elements
that are common to other models—competition, collaboration, and rewards—
along with another layer that they feel can provide mnemonic traction for
learning to persist. These devices, they hope, w ill not only promote student
engagement but also motivate students from a variety of backgrounds to con-
nect with the course material. Trudeau feels that their format provides stu-
dents “a different way to project their voice” and hopes that they can make
what is, for many, a difficult subject more accessible. Niman’s personal web-
site, where he has recorded much of his thinking in the genesis of this class,
captures the rationale: “We believe that learning best takes place when it is
part a co-created process. Students are no different from anyone e lse; they do
not like to be told what to do. Rather, they are looking for assistance in reach-
ing goals that they establish along a journey that takes them where they would
like to go. They need the freedom to explore, a variety of pathways to choose
from and the tools needed to help them succeed.”
Niman’s team developed the course during fall 2013 with user testing
scheduled for November of that year. Unfortunately, staff turnover and Ni-
man’s competing responsibilities meant that user testing was delayed until
2014. The planned launch date for the class as a credit-bearing undergraduate
first-year course was shifted to summer 2014. Student comments (integrated
into the sections that follow) came from individuals on the development
team who had taken the economics course in its ungamified versions rather
than from students currently enrolled for credit.
The Rationale: Why Gamification?
Niman’s elevator pitch on the course was that the learning experience is fueled
by “the student’s imagination on the framework we have created.” Co-creation,
the idea of story and story elements as used in many games, is the fundamen-
tal philosophical pillar to the model. He sees his role as the instructor of
the modified course to be helping students develop their stories rather than
“spoon-feeding” them fixed narratives or case studies that may not resonate.
The idea of mnemonics and even whimsical memory prompts came to them
in earlier work on helping students retain critical information. Trudeau re-
counted how she and Niman recorded a brief illustration of a key economics
concept, “We went out and played tennis to explain the law of diminishing
marginal returns. So it was very obvious, in that case, that the students’ re-
tention of that concept was helped by Jen looking like an idiot while playing
tennis out on the tennis courts.” Niman and Trudeau began to reflect that it
would be more meaningful when the examples w
ere self-generated by the
students and then compared within the class. Emerging research into tools
students are familiar with, like Facebook and other social media platforms,
indicates that perceived value emerges from a co-created process that has the
user learning more about themselves and their friends while enhancing feel-
ings of belonging within a community of peers (Marandi, L
ittle, & Hughes
2010). Niman’s personal epiphany came when grading final papers for an
executive MBA class, which he used as an opportunity to show a prospective
MBA student that she was capable of participating in an academically rigor-
ous company environment:
I said to [student name], “You want to go check these [MBA papers] out.” And it was
a real learning experience for her, you know, b
ecause h
ere are these executives’
writing and what’s the quality and how different are they? Are they really good? Or
are they really bad? And it’s by seeing what other p
eople are d
oing that you say
either, “Wow, I thought t hey’d be awesome and I would be so much further b
ehind,”
or “I’m right at their level,” or even, “I can do better than them.” So it’s all about
relative comparisons, right? And seeing what other people are d
oing.
Niman framed the course around the notion of relative position, positing
that people gain motivation, build self-esteem, and learn through their rela-
tionships with each other. He speculated that more effective motivators than
points or badge systems, which he d
oesn’t particularly see to be of value,
would be students posting their thoughts and reflections of a more personal
nature, knowing their fellow students would rate or “like” it in a manner that
they are very familiar and comfortable with through their social media use.
Perhaps the most transformative element of their model was the idea that
students with different skill sets may be able not only to coexist but also to
support each other and encourage mutual discovery and learning. Encourag-
ing fuller class participation through the provision of comfort or safe zones
may be a key benefit of gamification, whatever the specific means and format
that facilitate that end. Theorists such as Schell (2008) and Kapp (2012) per-
ceive failing in games not to be stigmatizing (as is often the case in academia)
but instructive. This removal or reduction of “fear of failure,” at least hypo-
thetically, encourages student participation and can make competition a more
76 Game On!
v iable element. In the UNH model, Elizabeth Assaf, a sophomore studying

business administration with a concentration in information systems man-
agement and marketing, illustrated the enthusiasm typical of members of
Generation Y when sharing their personal narratives. “If the kid sitting next
to you has an awesome story and really gets the concepts because he’s made
connections in ways that he can understand them and you have not and you
know you have to present next week, that itself is competitive and game-
like.” Again, from the recent student perspective, Abigail Hahr, a sophomore
majoring in economics and minoring in political science and justice studies
(she is also involved in the development of the course), described her prior
experience taking the traditional course in her first year:
I was a freshman last year . . . it’s a really daunting prospect walking into an econom-
ics course, but the thought of it being more game-like would make it less daunting.
I can think, “OK I can do this, all I have to do is work through this game and I’m
creating this and what I decide for my character to do w ill decide w hether they
succeed or not.” I think it’s less daunting—rather than seeing all of the scary con-
cepts come at you all at once in a textbook this is more like working through them
and giving you a better chance at grabbing them.
Here is the description of the course as outlined for student participants:
Learn economics as you write a story.
Learning economics can be a challenge. Too many concepts are often applied in
unrelatable contexts that have little meaning. EconJourney is designed to use
the power of story to help students learn how to take complex ideas and apply
them in ways that w
ill make them understandable and memorable.
The course is broken down into 12 stages. Each stage introduces the student to
three important concepts. They encounter a challenge that must be overcome
and writing prompts designed to help them think about how to use economics
to gain insight into key events in their own life. E
very four stages create a chap-
ter and their final story w
ill combine all three chapters into one coherent whole
where they become the hero of their own story.
By walking students through a logical thought process, it assists them in build-

ing associations between what appear to be a series of disconnected ideas. By
having them apply t hese concepts within the context of a story line that they
develop, they begin to see their applicability toward solving a problem that is
meaningful to them. In turn, it empowers them to think about change and the
power of narrative as both a thought process and a means of communicating
ideas in an understandable and engaging way.
A story-based approach to learning economic principles creates an educational

process connected with a student’s life and therefore is just one more extension
of those daily activities that leads them to consider who they are and how they
fit within the broader social fabric. The stories we tell about ourselves help us to
establish a sense of self that can serve as the foundation for acquiring the knowl-
edge and skills that lead to personal success both in the h
ere and now as well as
into the f uture.
As Niman reflected in conversation, games and literary narratives have been

used to illustrate economic principles for a long, long time. He quotes William
Breit and Kenneth Elzinga, who stated, “All good economic analysis is struc-
tured like classical detective fiction” (Breit and Elzinga 2002). Niman’s twist
is allowing the students to personalize the narrative. He refers to his students
as “multi-modal consumers of information” and “storytellers who share their
lives on a daily or even moment by moment basis.” He is convinced that sto-
rytelling for Millennials (his current audience for the most part) is more
important than for any prior generations, with perhaps the exception of
Arthurian troubadours with their oral histories, as means of maintaining and
perpetuating legend. Their stories, he postulates, are not merely entertain-
ment or knowledge dissemination; they are actively being used to create a
sense of identity and “place within a social fabric consisting of friends, rela-
tives and peers.” He feels that co-creation, as built on the work of Prahalad and
Ramasawamy (2004), provides a means of encouraging mastery as a means to
a more significant (for the participants) end. He encourages the students to
take on the role of the hero in their own story. As he explains, “By adopting
the role of the hero in the story, the student can establish an identity within
the context of a story that can take on epic proportions, thereby contribut-
ing to a sense of self-esteem.” He continues, “This explains, at least in part,
why games are so attractive, relative to other activities, and can form the
foundation for self-reinforcing activities.” He feels that a more interdisciplin-
ary focus in the class w ill empower students to achieve more than simply
memorizing facts or terminology. If he can get his students to actually write
78 Game On!
well, utilizing key concepts and terminology, he feels that they w ill be better
motivated to engage and better equipped to retain these concepts further
down the line in their education and work life. As he states:
The EconJourney process is about more than just a new way of learning economics.
It is also about teaching students how to write, solve simple math problems and
become analytical thinkers. It is about promoting creativity and (hopefully) that
learning can be fun. It is also designed to place individual action within a social con-
text; thereby helping students understand that a single individual can truly make a
difference.
As a final justification, not that he felt he needed one, Niman touches on

lecturing as a poor means of instruction. A 2010 survey indicated that close
to 83% of class time is still spent lecturing despite the fact that many studies,
including one by Walstad and Allgood, demonstrated that t here was only a
marginal difference in subsequent recollection of key information between a
student that had taken an economics course and one that had not (1999). Col-
lege seniors who had taken a class in economics scored 62% on a 15-question
test, only 14% higher than students scoring 48% who had never taken an eco-
nomics class in their life. The bar is disappointingly low.
Turning Students into Stakeholders
The development process for Niman’s team was initially theoretical and
therefore, by definition, platform-agnostic. Their early focus was on the ele
ments and rationale rather than the precise mechanics of delivery. Develop-
ing with no fixed platform in mind was a contrast with the other cases in this
study, where the realities and restrictions of available tools and platforms w
ere
uppermost in most teams’ minds. Not being tied to a specific learning manage-
ment system provided the team with the freedom to think more creatively.
Niman fueled the development team with his assimilation of, and enthusiasm
about, prior work connecting economics with mnemonic narrative. The dis-
tinguishing feature of the UNH project is that the model encourages student
participants to develop their own narratives to better personalize the key ele
ments that they need to remember. In his paper “The Hero’s Journey: Using
Story to Teach Economic Principles,” Niman quoted Savitz and Tedford to pro-
vide more context on this perspective, “If you read between the lines, you’ll
discover that the entire Facebook platform is organized around the generation
and amplification of stories” (Savitz and Tedford 2012, 21). This concept of
going beyond the instructor-provided, culturally dated narrative is clearly
captured in the succinct statement by Trudeau, Niman’s (by most standards,
young and connected) GA: “I’m 26 and my references are dated.” Niman elabo-
rates upon the need for personally resonant narrative, referencing Hawtrey: “It
is about empowering students to identify pertinent content in order to create
their own stories that are both relevant and meaningful for them” (2007, 143).
The Journey/Narrative
The UNH microeconomics journey, or EconJourney, involves a 12-step process

with a challenge in each step (see figure 9). To overcome the challenges, the
students need to use economic concepts explicated by “helping applications,”
“helping utilities,” or other cues that help them learn to understand and
apply the concepts. The process proceeds in two parallel lines, with one de-
veloping the story and the other the concepts. The gaming incorporates both
the journey and sharing within the group through discussion forums. In
these forums, students can compare stories and characters, voting for best,
most creative, and the like.
Structurally, the story develops through a series of challenges. Meeting
these challenges requires the students to develop an understanding of critical
economics concepts. The system is organized in two synergistic tracks. In
one the students are supported in developing a story or a narrative while, in
the other, they are presented with explanation and illustration of key eco-
nomics concepts. Niman, like many before him including George Lucas (Star
Wars director), was influenced by the work of Joseph Campbell, the American
mythologist, writer, and lecturer (1904–1987). In his most influential and
most widely cited work, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Campbell identifies
the common features and plot similarities that are evident in hero narratives
across the millennia, from ancient times to the present day. While t here are
many versions of the template for the “hero’s journey” (with stages or steps
ranging from just over half a dozen to three times that), Niman employed a
format proposed by Christopher Vogler, author of a famous guide for screen-
writers (The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers) that lists twelve dis-
tinct stages. As figure 9 shows, the challenges are subdivided into specific,
thematic categories bundled into three broad bands. A
fter each band, stories
are shared, and encouraging feedback is given.
80 Game On!
Figure 9. Screenshot: Initial draft interface for the UNH EconJourney course. Reproduced
with permission of Neil Niman, University of New Hampshire.
Band one is bracketed u

nder the heading “Setting the Stage.” The four
categories within this band are:
1. The Ordinary World—the hero is described in a familiar environ-
ment where they have been living, to a degree, in a state of ignorant
bliss. Think Luke Skywalker on Tatooine in Star Wars, Simba as a
baby lion in The Lion King, or Woody as a child’s favorite toy in Toy
Story.
2. The Call to Adventure—some shift occurs. Some catastrophic, or
potentially catastrophic, event happens that r eally shakes up the
blissful content of their (now former) life. The hero realizes that
sitting back, doing nothing, is not really the right thing and starts to
“overcome their ignorance,” as Niman puts it, becoming a positive
force for change. Think of Skywalker (Star Wars, again the obvious
analogy) or Po the Panda in Kung Fu Panda (for the younger readers).
3. Avoiding (or Refusing) the Call—cold feet. In starting to understand
the magnitude of what needs to be done, the hero develops dread
and actually starts to step back from the challenge. She or he at-
tempts to hold on to the past and wishes it had all never happened.
Think of any sports hero movie where the training is tough, the
opponent is scary, or the odds against are high.
4. Acquiring Skills, Tools, and Knowledge, Meeting with the Mentor—
the desire in the previous step to walk away is overcome by further
recognition that if nothing is done, everything w
ill be lost, and the
f uture w ill be untenable. The scale of the problem and the under-
standing that t here is no other option allows the hero to overcome
his or her fear and persevere, through training and hardship, to
acquire the skills to ultimately succeed. Traditionally an older, wiser
mentor figure appears, sometimes by magic, and commits to training
and educating the younger, naive hero. Think Rocky, Bruce Lee, The
Karate Kid, or Winter the dolphin in A Dolphin’s Tale.
The second band within the journey is titled “The Journey Begins.”
5. Crossing the First Threshold—having got around all the prevarication
and committed to saving (or finding or killing) something, the hero
typically travels to a new environment to train and study the chal-
lenge while starting to hone potential solutions. The location
provides a fresh perspective but reinforces the sense that if he or she
doesn’t act, everything, including this new place (not just the hero’s
own home base), will be destroyed. Thor coming to earth in the movie
of the same name comes to mind without much specificity as to what
he does or why.
6. Friends, Enemies, and Challenges—Captain America: Civil War has
now defined this category for a new generation of cinemagoers. In this
stage, as the hero continues preparation, friends become rivals or
threats to his or her mission to save/find/kill someone or something.
The hero has to persevere and keep learning, training, and developing
ideas to eventually meet the ultimate challenge (often referred to in
gaming parlance as the boss battle—more on this later).
7. Uncovering New Knowledge (or Approach to the Innermost Cave)—
having made it through the preceding stages with much existential
angst alongside tangible challenge, the hero develops a sense that the
answer was somehow t here all along. The veil of ignorance begins to
fall away, and the hero begins to see that a solution and ultimate
victory is possible a
fter all. George Lucas cultivated his Star Wars
characters so that they came to see the power of The Force and
realized that all was not despair and doom.
82 Game On!
8. Facing the Ultimate Challenge—t ypically something w

ill come up
that w ill threaten the whole episode—a late twist, a re-emergent
threat or challenge that was considered already vanquished. The
hero has to overcome this, hopefully, final challenge.
The third and final band is titled “The Road to Victory.”

9. Formulating a Solution—having faced and conquered that ultimate
challenge, the hero is now fully empowered and ready to return
home and address the key threat.
10. Encountering One Last Challenge—as the hero nears home, one final
challenge arises that produces one final seed of doubt as to w
hether
the solution/training package is actually pointing at the truth and/
or w
hether her or his solution really solves the problem. This
confirmation check is often thought of as the final piece of the
puzzle—the last lingering qualm assuaged, the certainty of a hero set
in noble bronze.
11. Mysteries Revealed—an opportunity for reflection on how far the
hero has come, how his or her doubts and insecurities have been
peeled away, leaving a sense of certainty and a resolution to complete
the task. Frequently a sense of “this is why I was chosen.” A final
girding of the loins before going into battle.
12. Celebrating Victory—in a magnanimous, calm sort of way, demon-
strating humility and a suggestion of reluctant hero-hood, the hero
returns home, slays the monster, and changes the world for the better.
Niman gives examples (beyond the pop culture Star Wars / Kung Fu Panda / Toy
Story examples given) where authentic, real-world challenges could frame a
hero’s journey, including
• Climate change suddenly getting very serious, making the Earth

basically uninhabitable;
• The exhaustion of all fossil fuels and conventional energy sources.
• Population explosion to an extent that the Earth cannot feed its
inhabitants;
• A sudden dictatorship or emergence of megacorporations that enrich
themselves at the expense of everyone e lse on the planet; and
• Some form of cyber-attack rendering all electronic devices inoperable
(imagine the panic for the 19–22-year-old with this disaster).
Despite these examples, Niman still hopes that students w ill use the guid-
ing framework to support the development of their own personal narrative
stating, “We always intended to create some sort of forum where students
w ill be able to share their writing initially within a smaller team then more
widely with other students in the class.” Despite this very student-centered
nature of the activity, he obviously also wants students to be afforded the op-
portunity to share their narratives with their professor. Alongside the in-
structor’s more considered, or academic, feedback, he hopes to generate more
peer interaction asking questions along the lines of, “OK, so who had the best
character?” Since the journey is broken into thirds, at the conclusion of each
band there is an immediate opportunity for the students to pause on the core
memorization of economics and instead, using the concepts and terminol-
ogy they have reviewed, construct a story in three main sections (or twelve
steps). T hese stories w ill get them feedback on both their grasp of the key
terms but also on the excitement and vividness of their writing, their creativ-
ity, and their imagination. After each band, each student will award gold, sil-
ver, and bronze rankings to the three stories they thought were the best. The
instructor, or his GAs, w
ill convert the awards to points and post the leaders
to a leaderboard under the hero’s (rather than the student’s) name. Through
this format both social interaction and a degree of competitiveness w ill be
built into the model.
At the end of the course the students w ill be directed to put the whole
story together and w ill receive comprehensive feedback again on both as-
pects. Niman hopes that this social element, blended with supportive and
constructive instructor feedback, w ill provide a richer source of encourage-
ment that translates to increased student engagement and time-on-task. As
an extra support, Niman employs “Storytellers” in the build. T hese recent
graduates of the class provide culturally relevant, age-appropriate sample
narratives so that, encouraged by their examples, the enrolled students w ill
overwrite the provided examples with their own fully personalized narra-
tive. The final, hyper-personalized context ultimately w ill serve as a mne-
monic tool to help students weave economic concepts into a framework
that they can recall when needed. A fter all the students complete their
journey and share their full story with their “Journey Team,” the top hero/
story from each subgroup w ill be labeled “Superheroes,” and their stories
w ill be shared via a blog that the entire class w
ill review before voting to
determine the class “Ultimate Hero.” The professor w
ill retain the authority
84 Game On!
to elevate stories that he considers of special merit to contend for the final
recognition.
Trudeau connected their model to a direct gaming format, contextualiz-
ing the Millennial student’s comfort with the evolving story format: “There
are many different types of games. There are the massive multiplayer role-
playing games (MMORPGs) that are story-based. The story is evolving and
you have to do these tasks within the story and eventually there’s some out-
come that you get to at the end, which is, I think, very much what w
e’re try-
ing to do except that w
e’re having them create the story that is evolving.”
Her own illustrative example comes from current pop culture, “The Hunger
Games trilogy has a lot of economic underpinnings in it so when I read it I
sunk my teeth into it . . . it’s politics and economics and we’re dealing with
scarcity and how people are fighting with it. If you sit down and read it, you
can make the connection.”
Niman is comfortable with this construct, when many other instructors
perhaps are not. Certainly, students in this kind of environment have a greater
degree of autonomy than would be seen in a didactic lecture environment.
As focus in academia has sharpened on student-centered learning (SCL), his
work seems well aligned with the core principles of this approach:
• Students solve problems, answer questions, formulate questions of

their own, discuss, explain, debate, or brainstorm throughout the
learning experience.
• Students are presented with or collaboratively formulate big-picture
challenges for themselves that frame and motivate their learning.
These are real-world-applied, significant challenges that require a
multifaceted approach to resolve.
• Active involvement and participation are necessary for learning.
Niman again quotes Prahalad and Ramaswamy, “Co-creation as a part of

learning is not about ceding control of the educational process to the stu-
dent, nor is it about joint knowledge creation, rather it is about creating an
experience environment in which students can have an active dialogue and
co-construct personalized experiences that will facilitate the learning process”
(2004, 9). Summarizing, Niman adds, “It is about creating an environment
where a student can take abstract constructs and turn them into relatable
concepts that have meaning for them.”
Cooperation
In the EconJourney class, each student is randomly assigned to a team termed

the Journey Team. Each team w
ill consist of at least six students, with each
working independently on their story, completing initial elements including
their hero character and their own unique context. Following e very fourth
step of the journey (see figure 9), students w ill upload their work to a Journey
Team blog and w ill be required to review the progress of their teammates. In
this collaborative phase, each team member w ill be asked to award gold, sil-
ver, and bronze rankings to the top three in their team. Niman conveyed the
possible value of class participation by noting, “What might be the most ef-
fective piece of the learning experience is not necessarily creating your own
story but seeing the other stories that students in the class have created.”
Competition
Niman’s personal philosophy on the value of competition is captured in this

quote, “Whether it is against other players, some performance standard or an
imaginary opponent, competition often brings out the best in each of us.” The
narratives in the class are posted to the class leaderboard u
nder the individual
hero’s name. Positions on the board are not directly grade-related and so run
no risk of violating federal privacy guidelines. When all heroes have completed
the journey and shared their stories with their team, the highest-ranking indi-
vidual narratives will be labeled “Superheroes” and will be posted to the main
collaborative area where the entire class will review and vote for their “Ulti-
mate Hero.” Individuals whose heroes did not make it to the final competition
can submit their completed narrative to the professor, who may choose addi-
tional contenders, thus ensuring that t hose who thoughtfully connect narra-
tive and key economic concepts can get recognized. This kind of in-class peer
competition is not intended to produce grade pressure (or a pressure to suc-
ceed) but rather to lead to the development of self-esteem when stories are
shared in a safe environment and other students like or recognize each other’s
work. Although there may be students whose work is neither graded well nor
upvoted in the narrative/journey side of the equation, the extra means of rec-
ognition suggest that all students have a greater range of possibilities for gain-
ing esteem through e ither their economics understanding, their creativity, or
other elements that the instructor chooses to recognize.
86 Game On!
Technical Build
In fall 2013, Niman’s team was empowered (but also arguably limited) by
the lack of platform and technological specifications that they had in place.
UNH, as part of the state system, runs the Blackboard learning management
system. Even as the course was always likely to be connected to the larger
institutional system, Niman was comfortable linking out to other develop-
ment platforms they might end up using. He consciously encouraged think-
ing outside the box, and so his team’s language was creative yet lacking detail
in terms of concrete implementation:
We’ll have some sort of notes section where they can type notes to themselves and
dump that into a database, and then they can pull that up at any time so they don’t
have to remember these things. So at the end of this sort of brainstorming stage
we’re talking about, they’ll have a button that will call up the choices they’ve made.
We had started with Wordpress, the blog developing software, but for the ideas we
had [as a team] we felt that it w
ouldn’t support our needs—we wanted to have a
database behind a dynamic site.
Student Reaction
Samantha-Jo Virga, a junior economics major at UNH, commented on the

importance of personalized content in the hero’s journey model and the po-
tential that it may have for retention of information. Her comments were
based on her own academic experience and the development team’s discus-
sions, “That article that your teacher says, ‘Read this’—am I going to retain it
a year later? I doubt it. But if you’re making your own story that’s kind of cool
so you’re g
oing to . . . I would assume, remember it—bits and pieces at least.”
She wondered whether the instructor role would change in this less instructor-
didactic, more student-centric environment:
That’s hard to say—it could change a lot of t hings. As it stands, I feel like u
nless you
get to know your instructor well the roles are really separate. They’re the faculty,
you’re the student. In this model I would hope that the student gets more passion-
ate about the materials and maybe . . . you would get more discussion and debate
about the stories. So perhaps the instructor does become more of a coach—more of
a guide—rather than throwing information at you and then just seeing if you do
well on the exams.
Elizabeth Assaf, a sophomore who acted as pilot tester and “Storybuilder” on

Niman’s team, reflected on the potential for the model to allow participants
to go beyond their usual classroom persona—something that is particularly
useful if they are labeled, either by themselves or institutionally, as an under-
achiever. “It’s the concepts of gaming, creating that experience where you’re
playing that character that might not essentially be who you are, but it might
be who you want to be. So if you’re striving academically to be the person you
want to be, academic standards-w ise, and y
ou’re creating that experience to
get t here then it could be completely different from the usual pass or fail in
this classroom.” As a self-declared high achiever, Assaf is self-aware enough
to know that she does not necessarily represent all students who w
ill be tak-
ing this entry-level economics class. This was a theme shared by almost all of
the student-developers: that there w
ill be students in the EconJourney class
who are there because they have to be rather than because they want to be.
Although aware of differing student types, the team did not manipulate the
design for particular subgroups, feeling that all students would benefit from
the gamification. According to Assaf, “Some students are there because they
have to be there. We want to take that and make it so e very kind of student
finds some type of interest in this program and is willing to put in even a
tiny bit of knowledge and work. Even among the high achievers there are a
lot of students who think, ‘I’ll memorize this and then forget about it.’ ”
Outcomes
Niman is comfortable speaking of the EconJourney model as a gamified
course while distancing himself from what he perceives as the norm for
gamified courses. He distinguished between courses that have some added
game elements versus those that have been fully gamified, stating, “The
whole approach is sort of a gamified approach where, just as in a game, I cre-
ate an avatar, I develop a character, the character builds skills, the character
has experiences, they overcome challenges, they see how they are growing
and progressing, and they feel good about themselves. I mean, that’s gamifi-
cation more than just giving someone a badge or something like that.”
When discussing elements such as cooperation, competition, and recogni-
tion, the UNH team conceives of these coming as embedded elements in the
course rather than as the instructor granting awards or badges. This approach
fits with the open nature of their narrative (student-led) and their idea of
88 Game On!
co-creation to engender buy-in and mnemonic retention of information. Rec-

ognition by virtue of social/peer approval also reflects mechanisms such as
“liking” in Facebook, accruing approval from peers on platforms and imple-
menting tools used by the target demographic for this course. Millennial stu-
dents tend to be, in Niman’s experience, more comfortable sharing informal
feedback in a social media–like environment than they are formally assessing
their peers academically.
A third part of the model that Niman feels could have great value is the
potential for social support to reduce failure anxiety. He feels that reducing
fear of anxiety could be of particular value for less-confident learners, such as
first-generation college attendees or fragile learners: “Many students seem to
be more interested in managing risk than achieving success. W hether they
are trying to prevent losing points on an exam, looking foolish answering a
question in class or selecting easy rather than difficult courses to take, it is
more about averting losses than gaining success. The EconJourney process is
designed to build students up so that that they are more willing to take a risk
and try to learn something new. It is about replacing fear with achievement.”
The development team hopes that the blend of mnemonic aid and addi-
tional student-generated context w
ill stimulate dialogue, encourage sharing, and
allow the fun context of the activities to counteract the more typically daunting
atmosphere of the economics environment for non-economics/math majors.
Although the team emphasizes encouraging creative, non-logic/non-math-
minded students in the milieu of economics, an associated benefit is that their
model is likely to encourage logic/math-minded economics majors to think
and write creatively. This serendipitous bonus is something that may help sci-
ence majors whose only writing training typically comes in general education
English and social studies classes that are often forgotten when students get
back to their science or math-based coursework.
Niman summarizes the potential for his gamified format to develop com-
petencies beyond those usually emphasized in an economics or STEM course,
“We’re trying to do more than just teach economics. So t here w
ill be a lot of
critical reasoning to overcome these challenges and certainly to develop the
students’ stories. There’s also a big focus on writing and communication
skills so we’re trying to sort of cover all of that. Writing isn’t an add-on in the
class, writing is an integral part of the class.”
As institutions face increasing pressure to confirm teaching effectiveness
and tangible student output competencies, the cross-disciplinary, interwoven
nature of Niman’s format merits encouragement. If he is able to increase the

presentation skills of economics majors, develop the capacity of non–math ma-
jors to grasp central concepts of microeconomics, or even just generally im-
prove student engagement, then his model will be validated. This potential is
certainly uppermost in Niman’s mind, as illustrated in his paper, “The Gamifi-
cation of Higher Education: Designing a Game-Based Business Strategy in a
Disrupted Marketplace,” in which he comments, “We are failing our students.
Some think it is b
ecause the material we teach is not very relevant for today’s
economy. Others think it is because something fundamental has shifted and,
as a result, learning styles are no longer in step with the way higher education
is delivered. I think it is b
ecause we have not engaged students in a way that
has made their educational experience a personal one with demonstrable ben-
efits and a clear rationale for how it is going to make them more successful.”
When asked about the motivation and need for a new model such as this,
Trudeau stresses the potential long-term value, “There are not many jobs now
where you go and sit in a room by yourself—it’s very much collaborative and
working with others—so if you need to get your point across, this may be
another way to articulate the numbers story in a different way.” In a final re-
flection, Niman alludes to the potential for extension of his concepts to wider
audiences:
I could see this format as an add-on to a traditional class or it might be a substitute

for a traditional class . . . might be something that somebody just wants to do. Our
thought is just to build the site and make it available to anybody and everybody. In
future iterations, we may target someone who is sitting in their living room who is
not part of a degree program at all. They may be attracted to one, any or all aspects
of the project, “I’m creative, I’d like to write a story and I’d like to learn a little eco-
nomics in the process.”
Given the low completion rates of online courses—particularly MOOCs—

a hero’s journey model such as the one being developed by the UNH team
would have to fulfill only a small portion of its potential to merit further
study. Trudeau’s summary is appropriate in its scope and encouraging in its
conviction, “I think if you can get students more interested [in academic con-
tent], be it through competition, self-discovery, better examples or whatever,
you can only make the learning experience a better one. I’ve stood in front of
the class and seen the people who are enjoying it and getting it and compar-
ing that to t hose who just d
on’t care. Finding a new strategy to get t hose
90 Game On!
students to care is . . . attractive. I’m hopeful that it w

ill kind of make the
subject matter more accessible to a broader population.”
Where Are They Now?
On May 17, 2016, I spoke with Niman to see where he had got to with the EconJourney
project. My questions were, How has the project evolved? Has it grown or atrophied at the
institution?
BELL —So Neil, thanks for taking my call. I’m wondering if you could fill me in on the
two years since we reviewed the EconJourney project together back in 2013–14.
NIMAN —This past year we were doing EconJourney 2.0 and we’ve got some really inter
esting ideas w
e’re going to implement over the summer to create version 3.0. With
EconJourney we did it in a single class. We focused more on sort of telling a story
rather than learning economics, we didn’t r eally implement any of the games stuff
well, and we didn’t really know what we w
ere doing, so it was sort of a disaster.
Then we sort of cleaned it up a little bit and ran it again and had a lot more suc-
cess. Part of it was we knew what we were doing, and we’d made some pretty fun-
damental changes and restructured the content. The students were really receptive
to it, and that sort of spurred us to come up with version 2.0. We did a total site re-
design, so the look and feel was entirely different, and a lot of the content was dif
ferent. You know, we had gone into the project design with g
reat enthusiasm but
didn’t really think of it from the student perspective. They d
idn’t want to read any-
thing, and they don’t want to click on anything. They just want to do as little as
possible and the key question became, “How can we better engage them?” Version
2.0 is focusing on changing the way we presented the material, by creating a more
linear design in the site and better specifying what our expectations are and what
they [the students] need to do.
And so now w
e’re d
oing version 3.0. We’ve been focused on getting the content
down, and now we have a better idea of what content we need. W
e’re g
oing to
continue to refine the content and add game elements that d
on’t exist. We redid
the challenges so now they tell a story and serve as an example of what it is we ex-
pect the students to write. W
e’re creating a more engaging story, but now w
e’re
going to add some agency where the students can pick different forks in the story
so that they feel more part of things. Then at the end of the story, they’re going to
be able to pick what happens and choose (we h
aven’t figured out what w
e’re calling
it yet) a talent or a skill that the character in the story develops. This will earn the
equivalent of a badge, and t hey’ll be asked to use that in their stage writing. Then at
the end it’s sort of like a personality test, where we’ll tell them the twelve character-
istics, traits or talents that they identified and what it means. So that it’s sort of
this New Age, self-help kind of thing, while at the same stage [they] sort of learn
economics . . . and we continue to hope that they draw a better connection be-
tween the character that they’re writing about and their own perceptions of them-
selves. This is getting back to that “changing mindset” stuff that we w
ere working
on a couple of years ago. We are embracing that and looking at the semester (and
at each stage) as a series of interventions that hopefully at the end empowers them
to think that this validated their character make a difference so that they can make a
difference too.
BELL —W hat y ou’re saying is that the original (1.0 version) was too loosely structured?
Allowed the students too much freedom of choice and movement?
NIMAN —The first version we took kind of a sandbox approach, “Here’s a sandbox and a
bucket and you go build a sandcastle.” The students w
ere like, “Well I’ve never seen
a sandcastle and d
on’t know how to do a sandcastle,” or “I can’t decide.” We dis-
covered that they need more guidance than that, so we put more structure into the
site, but w
e’re still trying to slip t hings in without them realizing it. And the content
we redeveloped and rewrote to try to make it more engaging, snappier, and briefer.
We’re trying to give them a little more structure, so now we give them writing
prompts. In fact, we went [in 2.0] too far the other direction. We gave them very
specific writing prompts, and all they did was take them and essentially turn them
into a series of essay questions. The students shifted to, “well I’ll just answer the
writing prompt,” rather than thinking about how the writing prompt was intended
to nudge them and to get them to think what to write. So in version 3.0 we’re
throwing away all the existing writing prompts, and we’ve come up with a new way
of envisioning how we’re going to get them to pull out concepts and use the con-
cepts in their writing.
The part I forgot to mention is this past year we’ve used version 2.0, and we have
had a tremendous amount of success. In the fall we used it in a class of two hundred,
and I had an instructor teach two sections of a hundred students in each. One sec-
tion used a formal publisher’s e-text and support materials, and in the other section
he used EconJourney. The lectures w
ere exactly the same, the exams were exactly
the same, everything was the same except a difference in the electronic learning
platforms. What we discovered was that students didn’t perform any worse on the
exams using EconJourney than they did using the formal publisher’s e-text and sup-
port materials. In terms of preference, students d
idn’t strongly prefer one over the
other, and so we w
ere feeling really good about that, as I d
on’t know how many
92 Game On!
millions of dollars w
ere spent developing [the formal publisher’s e-text and support
materials], but we spent, I don’t know, a few hundred bucks, three weeks of my wife’s
time, and whatever time I put in developing the content. So it goes to show, we didn’t
see any difference in learning outcomes whatsoever, and the students w
ere equally
satisfied without having to spend tens of millions of dollars. Then we used it again
last semester and ran the same experiment, but the professor used a different
[formal publisher’s] e-text and support materials instead of the previous publisher’s
e-text and support materials. As far as she can tell (the students just took their final
exams on Friday), throughout the semester EconJourney students did equally as well
on the standard exams.
So we did this semester to see if hopefully EconJourney is yielding better results
on what we r eally care about because the questions were sort of standard multiple-
choice questions, the kind you would see in a mindless economics class—nothing
special. It occurred to me that in EconJourney, w
e’re hoping to improve their writing
ability, and we’re hoping to get them to think critically and to get them to use the
concepts in a meaningful and relevant way. So what we did this semester (and w
e’re
grading them as we speak) is, in addition to the multiple-choice exam we wrote a
special EconJourney question. We gave them a couple of paragraphs of text and
asked them to pull out econ concepts and use them in a meaningful way. So we’re
about to evaluate how the students did in those terms, and what we’re hoping is
that in the “plain Jane vanilla” economics exams EconJourney students don’t do any
worse. But [we hope] in terms of something that asks them to use the concepts in a
meaningful way, that they do a lot better, and w
e’ll have those results in a week
or two.
Something e
lse that we’re going to do is we’re going to reach back to those stu-
dents who took the class in the fall semester and ask them to take an exam and to
see if the EconJourney kids retain their knowledge of economics any better than
they do with the formal publisher’s e-text and support materials kids—that’s some-
thing that we want to test.
And then what’s really exciting, or nerve-wracking, is when we roll out version
3.0 next fall w
e’ll have 650 students, using EconJourney 3.0.
BELL —Can you tell me where you went with the tech platform? It was very basic in the
pilot, and it was something you had said you wanted to work on.
NIMAN —
We’re still using WordPress. We’ve found ways to make the platform more
powerful so the students move through levels. They can follow a progress bar, and
we’ve set it up so they can get immediate feedback, so we’ve been able to do a lot
more with the WordPress environment. So w
e’re still staying in the WordPress
environment, and, in fact, one of the papers that I’d r eally like to write if I ever get
free time is how WordPress can be used in this way with this w
hole movement for
open educational resources. The one big impediment in the way is, well, if you want
some sort of electronic learning platform to support some open resource, you’ll
find the major publishers have a stranglehold on that. Basically, you move[d] away
from the environment where they charge for the textbook and threw the software
in for free, and now they’re charging for the software and throw the textbook in for
free. So what we’re trying to do is we’re trying to say, “Hey—we’ll give you a tem-
plate, w
e’ll show you how to build your own Journey platform and you can do this
for relatively few dollars,” and r eally eliminate the last barrier to entry that the text-
book companies have to maintain their stranglehold on the market.
So this summer I’ve hired a graduate student to develop an Eco-Journey (as in
ecology, not economics), and I’ve hired an undergrad to help him build that and
document everything that’s done so that at the end of the summer we could basi-
cally distribute a guide that says to other faculty and even other institutions, “Hey, if
you want to develop your own journey approach, h
ere’s how to do it.”
BELL —That’s great. Before we wrap, I’d like to talk to you about a second project that
has sparked off at UNH, something that you described to me back in 2013 as your
ultimate goal, and what you saw as an expression of gamification’s massive poten-
tial on a campus-wide implementation. Can we talk about that?
NIMAN —Well, I think that that might merit a separate chapter all to itself. Do you want
to come back to that later—say, chapter 9?
BELL —Sounds g
reat. See you t here.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ethical Decision Making
The University of Waterloo (UW), established in 1957, is a public research,

co-ed university with its main campus in Waterloo, Ontario, Canada. It has a
reputation as one of the leading proponents of cooperative education, placing
over 19,000 of its 27,000 undergraduate students with over 5,200 employers
annually. It was founded with the goal of educating the engineers and tech-
nicians Canada needed for its postwar development. UW’s second chancellor
cultivated the system, blending classroom, academic study with industry train-
ing, forming the basis of the co-op program. Its location in a key region, in
what is referred to as Canada’s Technology Triangle, has provided both oppor-
tunity and impetus to support and populate fledgling startups and growing
businesses, all in a synergistic relationship with what has been called one of
the top economic development organizations in Canada. Through its Research
and Technology Park on its North Campus, businesses are granted access to
the university’s faculty, co-op students, and alumni as well as use of the uni-
versity’s facilities and resources. Among over 160,000 graduates are John Baker,
founder of Desire2Learn, and Mike Lazaridis, cofounder of the company that
became BlackBerry Ltd. The school is proud of its reputation that its faculty,
students, and alumni have formed more companies than any other Canadian
university, a reputation that has seen the university labeled “the Silicon Val-
ley of the North.” Canadian citizens and permanent residents pay between
C$9,000 and C$15,000 for tuition and books, with international students and
nonpermanent residents paying more than double that. T here is a C$658
co-op fee, and housing and meals have to be added to the above fees.
UW’s institutional openness to the possibilities of gamification was publi-
cally demonstrated when it hosted the 2013 Gamification conference. This
was the second time that the university had hosted this event, a conference
that brings together academic researchers and industry leaders to engage in
discussions and demonstrations of gamification in health care, marketing,
Ethical Decision Making 95
education, and entertainment. All told, around three hundred attendees from
all sectors of business and academia participated, including a broad range of
nationalities from beyond the United States and Canada.
The Waterloo Professional Development (WatPD) core at UW was developed

by the faculty to support the experiential learning of the university’s co-op
students. The format of WatPD, online courses in topics related to their real-
world experience, allows students to continue to engage with the institution
while they are “out” immersed in their co-op. The central idea is that these
fully online, credit-bearing courses w ill allow students to arm themselves
against, or react to, real-world challenges. They provide students with the op-
portunity to develop skills that UW faculty and administrators feel w ill im-
prove their subsequent employability and workplace productivity. The courses
have always included an element of constructivism—asynchronous discussion
areas created to encourage students to reflect on connections between the
workplace, their academic courses, and their career path. UW’s own literat ure
describes the program as emblematic of “Waterloo’s commitment to innova-
tion in teaching, technology, and co-operative education.” The overall objec-
tives of the WatPD program are listed as:
• To enhance the overall work-integrated learning experience of co-op

students by providing engaging and relevant online courses to
improve students’ employability and workplace productivity.
• To promote the integration of what is learned at work with what is
learned during academic terms through critical reflection.
• To enable peer learning and foster a sense of community among
co-op students.
The WatPD program has four required courses and eight electives. Ethical
Decision Making PD9 (figure 10) is one of the electives. These courses are
designed to be concrete and succinct, intended to take students between 20
and 25 hours to complete including time spent reading, watching, and listen-
ing to course content and completing course assessments. Students who self-
reported through surveys (with an impressive 75% completion rate averaged
across courses) confirmed 20 to 25 hours of work during the 10 weeks that
the course runs. The fact that the WatPD courses are available for students to
take while they are actually placed at their co-op during a “work-term,” as
96 Game On!
UW calls it, allows them immediately to apply the knowledge they are gaining
to the work environment. The courses include assessments and formative (in-
structor) feedback on individual assignments, quizzes, tests, and exercises. The
final grade in the course is binary, submitted to the registrar’s office as either
a CR (credit) or NCR (no credit) and appearing on students’ transcripts in that
format. UW administrators feel that these courses do not require a proctored
final exam, as plagiarism is not felt to be a major risk given the clear partici-
pation benefits and fairly low academic requirements for the students. The
official course description for Ethical Decision Making reads,
Borrowing from philosophy, game theory and economics, this course equips co-
op students with both theoretical and practical knowledge needed to make ethi-
cal decisions in an ever-changing and increasingly competitive workplace. How
we act w ill affect others. And insofar as our actions affect the well-being of
others, ethics has something to say about how we conduct ourselves. A basic as-
sumption of the course is that interests and incentives drive human behavior.
With a clear understanding of how interests and incentives affect the decisions
people make, students w
ill be better prepared to navigate the complexities of
ethical decision making in the workplace.
Greg Andres is an assistant professor in philosophy and instructional sup-

port coordinator at UW. He develops courses for the WatPD program taken
by approximately 16,000 students each year. Andres discussed how his inter-
est in gamification developed from experiences in his face-to-face classes and
transitioned to his online class Ethical Decision Making:
In lectures, on campus, I started using i-clickers just to encourage attendance and

participation—and it’s incentivized so they get—well, this term it’s 15% [of their fi-
nal grade]. If they come to class and answer 75% of the questions they get 15% just
for sitting in the seat. I teach a lot of the concepts by just having games, and I have
them play against me. T
hey’re usually just game theory games, so there are two
decisions to be made, two players: h
ere are the outcomes, use your i-clicker, how
would you play it? It works beautifully. In the lecture, I ask a question, “How many
of you are familiar and understand the prisoner’s dilemma?” And they are all very
confident (80%), “Yeah, we know how to play.” “Alright, let’s play a game.” And the
majority of students play irrationally, so it’s like—in what sense? You highlight that
disconnect—you think you know how to play, let’s talk about it. Then I thought,
“That’s got to work online,” and it was just a hunch, in an online context, this has . . .
Figure 10. Screenshot: University of Waterloo Ethical Decision Making course.

Reproduced with permission of Greg Andres, University of Waterloo.
something similar has to work. We can take the course concepts and not just have
them passively, you know, listen to it or read it, but, “Here’s a game, let’s play it.”
Andres explained that the flexibility of games allows him to provide new
situations where students can apply course concepts. UW is known for the em-
phasis it places on co-op programs. On the UW website, a statement on “The
Mission of Co-operative Education” emphasizes that the program is designed to
“inspire uWaterloo students to connect to the possibilities in a continuously
changing world of work; enable them to bridge their academic and workplace
knowledge; challenge them to learn, grow, and contribute wherever they go.”
Andres believes there are aspects of gaming that clearly motivate and en-
gage gamers and resonate with the goals and aspirations of co-operative edu-
cation. As students take his course while active on co-op, he is hopeful that
the embedded games and game elements ameliorate the jarring contrast be-
tween the lived experience of the real workplace and that of school. There are
98 Game On!
certainly elements emphasized in the literature on experiential education

(Kolb 1984) that would seem to overlap with skills needed to perform well in
a gaming environment. The need to think quickly in rapidly changing situa-
tions, the ability to make informed decisions, and the opportunity to receive
immediate, corrective feedback are all key elements of experiential learning
that gaming advocates would find familiar. Other elements of experiential
environments, including competition for rewards and penalties or stigma for
failure, are also not uncommon in both real-world and virtual games.
Ethical Decision Making: The Gamified WatPD Course
The objectives of the Ethical Decision Making course specifically (as opposed
to the general WatPD program aims mentioned earlier) include building an
understanding of ethical issues in the workplace and fostering students’ abil-
ity to take personal responsibility in group contexts.
The course has three types of assessments. Nine units with short-answer
questions are worth 27% of the final grade. Three long-answer assessments
are worth 55% of the final grade. This leaves 18% of the final grade that is
carried by the gamification elements contained in the nine units, for a total
of 45 games at five games per unit. The gamified elements are designed to be
nonpunitive, rewarding participation rather than success (e.g., “the right an-
swer”). To pass the course, a student must receive an overall grade of at least
50%, meaning that any student could hypothetically skip the gamified ele
ments and still receive a CR grade. Notably, none of the students does.
Andres’s course applies the term “to gamify” quite esoterically, based primar-
ily on the instructor’s personal interests rather than through any sustained
analysis of game elements. Andres uses subject-related quiz games and gami-
fication elements, including a leaderboard, and is considering other elements
to increase student engagement. The games are actually scenarios based on
quite traditional course content, with no heroes or narratives layered on top.
The instructor discusses the games that are embedded in the course content:
The games are the type of games that you would find in any game theory text. Each
game consists of a brief setup (a scenario or some type of story), a description of
who they are playing against, two choices and the outcomes of their choices. They
are then asked to make a choice based on their ethical values (worldview, or what
ever you want to call it). They play against me in most of the games (well, against a
programmed version of me). There is also a leaderboard. Each student sees their
individual ranking, but only the top 10 are displayed for everyone to see.
The Centre for Extended Learning (CEL) team at UW supported the build
of the platform as envisioned by Andres. As Mark Stewart, the CEL instruc-
tional digital media developer, described it,
Greg worked with an online learning consultant and a course developer here at CEL
to flesh out his request. Once the concept was nailed down, the development team
was brought in to work out the technical details and start the build process. This
process took a long time as both teams had to educate each other on what was
needed and what was possible, especially in the time frame. This was a custom build
that would have to be done from the ground up. We used MySQL, PHP, Javascript,
json, and HTML to bring these games to life.
The Leaderboard
Andres built the leaderboard so that all participants retained the option to
remain anonymous or have their name displayed based on personal prefer-
ence. The nature of the course, the way the game elements are graded (that is,
students receive points for any sort of serious attempt), and the ability for
students to remain anonymous, Andres felt, would protect the UW team
from privacy concerns. Figure 11 shows the leaderboard distinguishing stu-
dents who chose to remain anonymous and t hose who elected to be visible in
the course (their names are blocked out h
ere to protect the innocent).
Game Scenarios
The games are related to course content, but they can be taken independently
and do not need team or cohort synchronicity (i.e., everyone d
oing the same
thing at the same time) to complete. The students are presented with a sce-
nario directly embedded in the Canvas LMS (figure 12), and are asked to
make an ethically informed judgment call based on their understanding of
readings and materials provided by the instructor.
As an example, the dilemma presented in figure 12 raises a question of
whether the student in a job-hiring situation would allow a potential em-
ployer access to his or her Facebook profile. The student in this scenario has a
fairly clean profile, with few embarrassing posts or pictures. Another job can-
didate, known personally to the student, has a Facebook profile with evidence
100 Game On!
Figure 11. Screenshot: Leaderboard for the UW Ethical Decision Making course.

of a more hedonistic lifestyle. The question is whether the student would make
the ethical decision to grant the employer access to his Facebook page. She
knows that in doing so, she would be making it difficult for the other candi-
date to say no, hence exposing his personal foibles. Having made their choice
in the scenario (figure 13), students receive immediate feedback that is in-
tended to provoke further thought and discussion rather than simply stating
that a choice was right or wrong.
Instructor Feedback
As suggested in figure 14, Andres rarely provides an absolute response, prefer-

ring to encourage discussion with the aim of getting the students to continue
reflecting on the issues a
fter the coursework is complete.
Figure 12. Screenshot: Game 7.2 setup in the UW Ethical Decision Making course.
Given the way the course content is built out, individuals can overzeal-
ously race ahead and complete all game elements. D
oing so provides the
short-term boost of topping the leaderboard—the “look at me!” f actor, as An-
dres terms it. Yet this phenomenon of racing ahead also limits the opportu-
nity to build peer interaction in the games and game elements. Conversation
on discussion boards in online education tends to flag if students are not
moving lock-step through the materials. Andres recalls the lack of high-
quality discussion about the scenarios as a disappointment. “So they play the
game and there’s a moral in the story (usually conveyed in his feedback) and
I was hoping that this would translate into discussion board discussions, but
not so much.”
One exception to the general lack of discussion-board activity was in con-
nection to one game scenario where, ironically, a lack of clarity (arguably,
poor instructional design) provoked interactivity. Andres explains, “There
was some discussion on the discussion boards—not as much as I’d wanted.
There was one particular game that they were annoyed with. They were like,
102 Game On!
Figure 13. Screenshot: Student choices in Game 7.2 in the UW Ethical Decision Making
course. Reproduced with permission of Greg Andres, University of Waterloo.
‘What’s the point of it?’ So I was like, ‘Here’s the point,’ and they w
ere like,
‘Oh, OK.’ But of course I made the games so that they are kind of vexing, so
it frustrates some, and it’s like, ‘Now y
ou’re irritated and frustrated, now
you’re ready to listen.’ ”
Andres felt that the leaderboard could be a solid motivator for some stu-
dents but would have worked better if the activities and events that generate
points had been sequenced to prevent “reading ahead.” Andres dug into this
issue when he asked the students for feedback a
fter the course had been com-
pleted. “Within two weeks of the course, four p
eople had played all of the
games, and I asked them, ‘Why? Why is this?’ And they said, ‘So we’d be top
of the leaderboard.’ ”
Figure 14. Screenshot: Instructor feedback in the UW Ethical Decision Making course.

Outcomes
The students playing the games are briefly engaged (for 5 to 10 minutes) by
each game scenario with no real sense of progression or suggestion of increas-
ing degrees of difficulty. Even though student engagement on discussion
boards was spotty at best, Patrick Laytnera (a former student in the class)
referenced the leaderboard as a motivator to monitor progress among peers
in the class. “For the most part it’s you against the system, the system being
Greg (the instructor). Usually it’s just . . . you pick your answer and it has its
answer tucked away and based on your answer you get points or not. The
games add a competitive element so you get more involved in the course.
Since it’s an online course, you d
on’t have any interaction other than com-
puters, so this pulled you into the course.”
When asked whether this kind of course might work better for certain
types of students, Laytner replied, “I think especially (for) students who
104 Game On!
aren’t engaged in the content. Professional development courses tend to have

a fair number of students who just want to do the bare minimum, get the
credit, and then drop it (or not drop it but stop working on it). I think that
the games could encourage them to stay engaged.”
It is worth bearing in mind the specific nature of Andres’s class popula-
tion: working students looking for resources and hoping (or having) to stay
engaged with the university while distanced from the campus in real-world
co-ops. Laytner suggests that there is a real temptation for students to do the
bare minimum to get the CR (credit received) box checked without a g
reat
deal of effort or learning. Yet none of the course participants skipped the
gamified elements. Andres believes that the game elements—combined with,
I would say, his experimentation and enthusiasm—increased engagement
with the course. Also noteworthy is the fact that Andres won the Waterloo
Arts Teaching Award for 2013, thus earning institutional recognition for his
energy and creativity.
Andres reports that, from the course that ran in September 2013, the major-
ity of the 38 students responding to the survey (out of 221, an admittedly low
survey-completion rate) stated “We find these games engaging and fun” (62%)
and “These games are helping us understand the course core concepts” (71%).
Andres realizes that the experiment is in its early stages. He is confident
that “with over 200 students per term, there w
ill be a lot of data for me to
mine. My ultimate goal is to analyze the data to see if the games actually suc-
ceed as a teaching tool.”
The games and the leaderboard provide a rudimentary gamification
theme to the course, although Andres’ interest in the field means that he is
always primed to add features that he reads about in the work of practitioners.
At the 2013 UW gamification conference, he informally shared his interest in
implementing a spotlight feature in the course as a contrast to the exclusively
meritocratic leaderboard so as to highlight a qualitative achievement of the in-
structor’s choosing. Examples of spotlight awards could be the student who
improved the most during the past week or someone who suddenly has achieved
something particularly challenging. This approach, he hopes, w
ill help build
community and encourage the class as a whole to work toward a common goal.
Institutional Embrace of the Gamified Course
Having decided to gamify his course, Andres pitched the concept to both his
academic supervisor, the vice provost of academic affairs, and the UW tech
team. The concept was received enthusiastically on the technical side in the
form of eager agreement to help him build his game elements. As he de-
scribes it, when he discussed his ideas with the manager of the CEL, his en-
thusiasm was palpable, “He sat back in his chair and he said, ‘If we can pull
this off, it’ll be brilliant.’ They had never done anything else like this before,
so they took it on as a challenge too.”
In terms of the academic, rather than the technical, permission to develop
the course, Andres reflects, “I asked my boss, Anne Fallon (the vice provost of
academic affairs)—I pitched it to her and she loved it, and she said, ‘Just run
with it.’ So I ran with it, and later she did come back and said to me, ‘Um—
can you just explain for me the rationale—just so that if the associate provost
does come back to me then I can say, yes, this is the motivation.’ But no one
at co-op, no one in the provost’s office has come back to us . . . So now it’s
just pure academic freedom!”
Fallon describes some initial trepidation but indicates general institutional
encouragement of Andres’s initiative in the form of technical support and
public endorsement:
I wouldn’t say that I had concerns with including gamified elements in the course,
but I did have concerns about how they were implemented. It was important to me
that the games included some sort of reflective piece and that students w
ere clear
why the games existed and how they were augmenting their learning. I also had
concerns with the leaderboard. I didn’t want students to feel the need to compete
with each other. The compromise for the leaderboard was to implement a feature
that allowed students to earn points while playing anonymously.
As with many gamification projects, the elements have been infused into
what is, to all intents and purposes, a “regular” catalogued course. Andres’s
course seems to have been protected by the blanket coverage of academic
freedom to teach a course as the faculty member sees fit. Fallon further
comments, “The course was not vetted at the sen ior academic level. The
catalog description does not include reference to games. The games evolved
as the course was being developed.” Clearly, Fallon and UW’s interest in
gamification as a concept and their desire to demonstrate UW as an indus-
try leader supported Andres’s desire to experiment with the format. UW is
unique in this study, as it is the only example among the four cases that
supplied any level of institutional academic endorsement for the instruc-
tor’s project.
106 Game On!
Next Steps
In terms of extending the experiment to other courses, Fallon comments,

“The gamified elements would need to be a
dopted on a course-by-course ba-
sis by instructors who are interested [in] or passionate about the potential for
games. It would only work as an organic process and if a body of literat ure
existed to support the benefits of gamification.” She also thoughtfully pre-
sented her concerns that this initiative might be misperceived as frivolous. “I
think there is a reputation issue, too, and I believe it extends to students and
faculty. I’m not sure if there is research that has been done on this, but in my
experience many students—at our school, at least—react negatively to learning
situations/assessments that fall outside the parameters of stereotypical academic
exercises like essays, exams,
etc.” Fallon’s comments illustrate sentiments I
heard at the conference, including support of faculty experimentation:
Games fall neatly into the category of unexpected assessment, and I think students
tend to dismiss the learning experience because it isn’t deemed academically rigor-
ous. I believe that students can be persuaded of the benefits of these less traditional
assessments, but that the challenge of doing so is exacerbated in an online environ-
ment. I think some faculty members share similar perceptions to their students.
Academia falls into the box of lectures, labs/tutorials, midterms, and finals. In their
mind, games are for fun, not for academic credit.
She does, despite her caution, conclude with a degree of positivity and opti-
mism, “I think there is great potential in gamification but that there is much
work to be done. We need research to provide a strong pedagogical underpin-
ning. We need significant resources to build games that are engaging and that
have enough finesse to actually meet the intended aims. Last but not least, we
need to address preconceived notions about learning and academia.”
These conclusions, in combination with Andres’s statements and enthusi-
asm, provide a healthy tension between the desire to experiment and the
desire to prove the efficacy of his gamification efforts. UW seemed, in 2013,
to be in an excellent position to continue as a leader in both experiential edu-
cation and gamification.
Where Are They Now?
On May 20, 2016, to discuss the progression of his work and to generally catch up, I spoke
with Greg.
BELL —Tell me how it’s all going. WatPD9, Ethical Decision Making, is it still r unning?
ANDRES —Yes, it is still r unning. It went live fall of 2013 and has run every semester. They
have gone to a different model. It will run two semesters, then be off one semester,
and then run for two and be off for one. This semester it is not running, so we are
doing a program review of it. I hope to address the games, as initially I had envi-
sioned the games to be one way, but the tech people [the web developers] said,
“No we c an’t do that, so h
ere’s the compromise.” I want to see if I can get it closer
to what I had originally conceived the games to be.
BELL —Can you talk a little more to that?
ANDRES —So what I wanted was more akin to a “choose your own ending [adventure].”
Have the thing structured so if they played one way in a scenario it would take them
to [a certain new] scenario. If they played another way it would take them to a dif
ferent scenario. The tech p
eople cashed it out as, “we c an’t do it technically.” Right
now it’s built in Desire2Learn (D2L), and it just uses the [native] quiz function—
which is very limiting. I think it was the ease of using that convinced the developers
it wasn’t worth doing the other way. You’d have to build a much more elaborate
engine in the background to actually do what I conceived of d
oing. I want to push
to see if t hings have changed, to see if they can actually catch my vision this time.
I’d be willing to do the back work to make this fly. One of the t hings we’d need to
do is the game would have to be able to track the student’s progression through it
so we could provide feedback. “How are you playing relative to how others are play-
ing?” More importantly, it’s so we could track their progress and assign participa-
tion marks for it. So that’s why they [developers] used the quiz feature in the first
place—so it was obvious if the students had done it or not. So we’d have to build
some sort of machine mechanism, some engine, to track their progress to assign
participation marks.
BELL —
How have you enhanced the game in subsequent runs? You w
ere a little disap-
pointed not to provoke more discussion between the games—has that improved at all?
ANDRES —So one of the t hings we’ve done is e
very week we post an actual news story
that motivated and inspired this particular game so the students d
on’t just see this
as an abstract activity. You know, “Here’s how the game actually played itself out in
real life, h
ere’s the actual story.” It still doesn’t generate discussion.
BELL —W hat e
lse have you learned in the time between launch and now?
ANDRES —That it’s r eally hard, that student engagement in an online context is incredi-
bly hard. It’s so much easier to run these games. I do a lot of these games in my
game theory course that I teach on campus, and the student participation and en-
gagement there is of a very different nature. It might be just if y ou’re online in a
108 Game On!
context like this, maybe the students are more inclined just to take the mindset of
being a passive observer. T
hese games are intended to make each of them an active
learner. But, I mean, that’s true of lectures on campus in general also, that it’s always
a constant struggle to convince the students that if I’m talking you’re not learning . . .
that they have to actively engage in order to learn. It’s possible in a class to do that,
but I d
on’t know how to do that in an online context.
BELL —
Did your efforts affect the institution in any way? Did anyone pick up on this?
What progression did you see? How did your efforts affect t hings?
ANDRES —I have no idea how to gauge that. The program loves the concepts and has
committed itself to making it better. I’m on the radar within the institution itself. We
have a Center for Teaching Excellence, and we have teaching fellows throughout the
university, and two teaching fellows have put me sort of in the public awareness.
One just recently said in a letter to the other teaching fellows, “If y ou’re ever looking
for ways to engage students, check out Greg Andres as everything he does is amaz-
ing.” I was also interviewed by US News & World Report and was featured in an arti-
cle on student engagement and gamification—WatPD loved it.
The Director of WatPD is tasked with bringing the courses [that WatPD provides]
to the broader student body. Right now, it’s just for co-op students, but they want to
make it like a diploma or like a stand-alone certificate. You would do your degree,
and then you would take these extra courses, and it would be on your transcript
that y ou’ve done this extra professional development aspect to your education.
BELL —If you could really enhance and promote gamification at Waterloo, what would
need to be done?
ANDRES —I suspect we would need money to do a study in the course. We have a lot
of data from thousands of students, but we h
aven’t yet r eally correlated how stu-
dent performance [in the course] is affected by how they did in the games. H ere’s
the ideal world: we would do a study and put some numbers b ehind it, then we
would use that, and I would work with the Center for Teaching Excellence at UW to
promote this kind of t hing within a course. I don’t think most professors at UW
might be convinced by just the anecdotes I present. Most would probably say,
“let’s see some real numbers. Can you definitively demonstrate, or at least show,
that active learning in this way contributes to student success?” And that’s a huge
proje ct.
BELL —Have you taken this out yourself? Maybe presented at any other conferences or
taken it on the road to other institutions?
ANDRES —No, I haven’t. I’ve been sidetracked by other projects and other ideas.
BELL —Have you seen or heard of anyone doing good work?

ANDRES —Actually, other WatPD courses in development now have taken the interactive
“choose your own ending” type elements into the course itself. I hope that the Cen-
ter for Extended Learning has been able to construct this, and my hope is that it’s
just a jump now so that this can now be applied to my games. I think they have al-
ready built a partial engine to do what I want. Seems like other courses are taking
that aspect of student interaction and engagement much more seriously.
BELL —Does this differentiate per student type?
ANDRES —I noticed that some of the science-y students are much more uneasy with the
moral gray areas of the games and subjects that are foisted on us. They want the
answers to be clear yes or no (or black and white) where these games are forcing
them to go, “you’re dammed if you do, damned if you don’t.”
BELL —Do the kids that come up and say, “This is great” or “This is cool”—are they a
par ticular demographic?
ANDRES —I have no idea. Thinking of how it plays out in class, I think that the older
students definitely grasp the point of the games quicker than first-year students.
You know, in class, sometimes the point of the game is just completely lost [on
younger students]. We have to go back and either play the game again or go step by
step and just explain [what was] the point of the game.
BELL —A ny employer feedback from the perspective of the co-op providers, perhaps?
ANDRES —There was a study as to the effectiveness of these courses on employers’ atti-
tudes towards students who had done it. There was a sense that there is value to the
courses that was the conclusion of the study.
BELL —A ny other reflections now that y ou’re older and wiser?
ANDRES —I would totally do it again, and I’m looking forward to putting down version
2.0. I think it’s totally worth it.
BELL —W hat was it like from your perspective as a faculty member? Did implementing it
enhance or undermine your position?
ANDRES —It was a labor of love, a lot of work. But like in class, it pays off in spades. The
kids seeing the connection between the theoretical concepts and how they actually
play off in real life.
I’ve done two PD courses, one for engineers and one for the general population
of students, and I’ll get every semester two or three students who have taken my PD
courses online and have sought me out to take my on-campus course—specifically
my game theory course. This is a self-selecting group so not representative of the
campus, but they report they loved the games or they felt bad about how they have
110 Game On!
played the games. One woman this past fall told me, “I didn’t think that Ethical
Decision Making would make me feel that bad.” So the students that have cared to
comment have quite enjoyed the games.
BELL —A re you still a gamer? Do you play games? I seem to remember that you were
more of a fitness fanatic—biking, r unning?
ANDRES —Ironman in 2014.
BELL —[Worst follow-up interview question ever] You saw Iron Man?
ANDRES —No, I did one [the triathalon] in Quebec. That’s where I injured myself—on a
bit of a break right now.
BELL —That’s g
reat. Thanks so much for your time.
CHAPTER SIX
Dungeons and Discourse
Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts (MCLA) is located in North Adams, Mas

sachusetts. With around 1,500 students and a student-faculty ratio of 1:13,
76% of students agree that professors put a lot of effort into teaching their
classes (25 respondents), while its party scene gets a sanguine B− (Niche.com).
Founded in 1894 for teacher training as North Adams Normal School, by 2014
MCLA had expanded to 19 majors and 35 minors with a focus on critical
thinking and communication skills. It is known for its quality, affordability,
and Berkshire Hills Internship Program—coolest acronym in this book award
goes to “B-HIP”—through which students gain hands-on experience with
cultural venues in the area. Notable graduates include urban fantasy author
Anton Strout, writer of Dead to Me, Deader Still, Dead Matter, and Dead Waters
(influenced by the party scene at the college?); Cleveland Indians World Se-
ries pitcher Ken Hill; and “Barstool Sports” blogger Brian McGonagle, a.k.a.
Rear Admiral. In 2015 its in-state tuition and fees were $9,475 and out-of-state
$18,420. Room and board were assessed at a smidgeon under $10,000.
Gerol Petruzella is a humanities instructor who also teaches ancient lan-
guages, philosophy, and ethics. He has taught philosophy at the Massachu
setts College of Liberal Arts (MCLA) since 2007 and served as the coordinator
of academic technology since 2011. His areas of specialization include an-
cient Greek philosophy, ethics, and Greek and Roman language and litera
ture. Further areas of interest include the ethics and social implications of
open-source culture. When the coordinator of academic technology at MCLA
left her position, Petruzella was asked to cover the position in an interim ca-
pacity. As a faculty member, he was committed to learning the newly imple-
mented Canvas LMS and thought that, in taking the new role, he would be
able to learn the new tool and support other faculty in doing so. Although
not from a formally trained technical background, he was comfortable with
computing, and he since has grown into the role.
112 Game On!
Having taught his regular philosophy class (PHIL 100) between 2007 and
2010 in a standard format, he wondered if his new technical skills would al-
low him to develop a gamified course inspired by his own gaming interests.
The specific idea came from a web comic titled Dungeons and Discourse, which
grounded discussions on philosophy in scenarios based on the role-playing
game Dungeons & Dragons. Dungeons & Dragons was developed in 1974 by
Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson and is explained to neophytes on the official
homepage: “The core of Dungeons & Dragons is storytelling. You and your friends
may tell a story together, guiding your heroes through quests for treasure,
battles with deadly foes, daring rescues, courtly intrigue and much more. You
can also explore the many worlds of Dungeons & Dragons through any of the
hundreds of novels written by t oday’s hottest fantasy authors, as well as en-
gaging board games and immersive video games. All of these stories are part of
Dungeons & Dragons.”
The Dungeons and Discourse comic produced by Aaron Diaz, an Oregon-
based Internet cartoonist also known as Dresden Codak, fueled Petruzella’s
interest in experimenting and attempting to tie his academic and social/
gaming worlds together. His gamified three-credit course PHIL 100: A First
Course in Philosophy (Dungeons and Discourse) ran in MCLA’s spring terms
2012 and 2013. The first time the course ran (with 15 students) no one was
informed that it was to be gamified prior to the class. By the time the course
started its second run, the campus was aware that the instructor was experi-
menting with gamification, and 20 students enrolled.
In 2012, having spent a year familiarizing himself with basic responsibilities

in his new role as coordinator of academic technology, Petruzella decided to
explore his own creative ideas to enhance student engagement. His empathy
for students who have traditionally struggled to engage with higher educa-
tion was apparent when we spoke. “Our campus has a reasonably high popu-
lation of students who are first-generation students coming out of personal
backgrounds . . . there are not necessarily a lot of folks in their backgrounds
who have done college, so this is a potentially strange and new and intimi-
dating, kind of environment.” Close to half (45%) of the students at MCLA
qualify as low income and are eligible for federal Pell grants. As became clear in
our conversations, the motivation b
ehind Petruzella’s gamification work is di-
Dungeons and Discourse 113
rectly tied to his efforts to engage and encourage students from disadvantaged
backgrounds. MCLA, according to its own literature, strives to promote excel-
lence in learning and teaching, innovative scholarship, intellectual creativity,
public service, applied knowledge, and active and responsible citizenship. The
school, in its own words, “prepares graduates to be practical problem-solvers
and engaged, resilient global citizens” (MCLA 2013). The environment at
MCLA seemed comfortable with creative instruction and supportive of in-
structors such as Petruzella.
Petruzella revealed his interest in the realm of student engagement and his
notion of gaming’s potential to reduce the separation between study and play.
“I think, across the board . . . it’s unfortunate but true, that there are a lot of
students, whatever their backgrounds, coming out of high schools where
there is not a lot of playfulness associated with education.” His focus on the
introductory-level course captures his interest in pulling students from what
he sees as K-12 thinking to practical problem-solving, producing the engaged,
resilient global citizens that are referenced in the MCLA values. “I see a gami-
fied intro course as the opportunity for a freshman to break some of those
habits or expectations that students may be coming in with, that might nega-
tively influence their attitudes towards education—their own perception of
how to go about being in class, being a learner.”
Under the banner of gamification, Petruzella implemented elements to de-

liver his take on a Dungeons & Dragons course reimagined to capture and con-
vey key concepts of entry-level philosophy.
Personalization
Recognizing the role of personalization in role-playing games such as Dun-

geons & Dragons, Petruzella built out a personal page for each student. He did
this by embedding a spreadsheet produced through Google Docs into the
Canvas LMS. On a basic level, this approach allows the students to create their
own biography, adding a photo and a personal quote or mantra. Figure 15
illustrates Petruzella’s own personalized page. The interface also keeps track
of students’ gold (awarded for participation in class discussions), quests com-
pleted, skills accumulated, and any bonus objects found. The personalization
element had the secondary effect of introducing competition for at least
114 Game On!
Figure 15. Screenshot: Instructor’s personalized page in the Massachusetts College

of Liberal Arts Dungeons and Discourse class. Reproduced with permission of Gerol
Petruzella, Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts.
some of the students. As Ross Betti, a student from Petruzella’s first gamified
class, describes it: “The competition for me was pretty important. If we had
the opportunity to have competition—I like a good, healthy competition—it
helps me excel in courses. If someone next to me has a better character than
me, I’m going to redo that assignment. I wanted my character to be the best—I
was like, ‘I’m going to have the coolest tricked-out wizard in Logos.’ ”
The Quest
The metaphor for learning in the Dungeons and Discourse class is a journey,
or quest, through realms where philosophical concepts are presented and ex-
plored. Five realms in total represent six theories of thought. Students spend
approximately three weeks in each realm discovering scrolls left by former
travelers that they have to analyze and be ready to discuss in the face-to-
face class meetings. Petruzella developed the scrolls using open educational
resources, some from the Creative Commons (a peer-reviewed repository of
resources) and others from the University of Adelaide collection of classic
texts. These scrolls replace a textbook, a change that has the benefits of reduc-
ing costs for the typical MCLA student and allowing Petruzella to add supple-
mental content when he discovers it through his ongoing research. Nate
Stanley, another student from Petruzella’s class, reflected on the decision to
move away from textbooks:
If there’s no book you actually have to listen, you have to pay attention. I’m one of
those students where the day before an exam I can write all the notes from the text
and I can ace the exam, but does that mean you learn anything? It means that you
have the ability to remember a few words and regurgitate them. I think that by tak-
ing textbooks out of the equation and putting people into unfamiliar situations; I
think that is g
oing to make them succeed much more than they would just in a
normal classroom environment.
The scrolls and information lead to quizzes with short answers, correlat-
ing to concrete skills and outcomes that ultimately map to learning outcomes
in the traditional versions of the class. Given that Petruzella has had no formal
technical training and lacks technical support from MCLA beyond his own
capabilities, a map simplistically illustrates the realms without any technical or
tangible ability for the participants to track progress through the land.
Participation Rewards and Incentives
Although the class was designed to be potentially run fully online, in early
iterations Petruzella has hosted face-to-face sessions to discuss progress and
offer what he calls the “marketplace.” On each student’s personal page in
Canvas, three gold coins are subtracted e very day during the term, account-
ing for living costs and equipment maintenance. Through evidence of learn-
ing and thoughtful discussion in the marketplace sessions, students are
awarded additional gold coins to augment their supply. Petruzella developed
the participation-incentive system in a gamified format. The merchant (Pe-
truzella) purchases good questions, and students have to barter to replenish
gold that “expires” as the class proceeds. Petruzella adopted this approach
with the goal of encouraging class-w ide inclusion. One of his students, Nate
Stanley, describes the format: “Every week, we met two to three times. We
116 Game On!
called each class the marketplace, and we’d have readings called scrolls that
were by Socrates and the other philosophers and we had to decipher what
they were trying to say and put it into our own words. When we’d go to the
marketplace, the teacher would bring up these questions and when we an-
swered them correctly, he’d say, ‘I would buy that.’ Which means y
ou’re get-
ting through participation, y
ou’re earning gold.”
A second student, Ross Betti, compared the experience to participation in
other classes, noting that all individuals felt compelled to participate to con-
tinue in the game. “The key was to keep participating in class, which kept
everybody involved, which is more than a lot of classes do where there are
three or four people who talk all the time and there are a lot of students who
don’t.” He elaborates: “If the (student) question was the right question and it
was something that would strike up a discussion not only between you and
the teacher but also among the students . . . you would earn gold that way,
not only by giving the answers but also answering to other students, and it
just makes the whole thing essentially a bazaar. You get everybody trading
ideas, trading theories, and it made it a very productive environment.”
When reflecting on the experience of delivering his gamified course, Pe-
truzella describes a recent conversation at the faculty center where class
participation of all students was discussed as a concern in traditional (non-
gamified) courses. The conversation made him reflect further on w
hether his
gamified approach might promote greater engagement than a traditional
course.
He explains:
Faculty are concerned about making participation the sort of thing that’s available
to all students on a fair basis. The topic was implicit around recognized bias in how
you interact with students and w
hether that’s in terms of gender—privilege male
students in certain ways—or students of color or whatever . . . “How do I carry on a
classroom discussion in ways that are fair towards all participants?” when students
are not coming with the default, “Yes, I’m g
oing to speak up and I have something
to say very confidently.” So what are the ways, the techniques for pulling t hose folk
in and giving them a space and an opportunity and mechanism for participation?
Although not a key driver of Petruzella’s work, the possibility that gamify-
ing a course might democratize participation, thus compelling all students to
participate irrespective of an instructor’s conscious or subliminal prejudices,
could be a valuable outcome of his approach.
Collaboration
Many successful role-player games incorporate teamwork, and many games

that are played online are now team-based. One of Petruzella’s students de-
scribes his online gaming experiences, emphasizing the social nature of what
is sometimes considered a solitary pursuit. “I play games where you can really
get to know the p
eople that you are playing with; y
ou’re not just interacting
through a microphone. I mean, these people I play games with on the com-
puter I have been playing with for six or seven years, and I’ve been playing a
sequence of games with them that are made by the same company, so I know
how they play, and they know what I am capable of.”
Cognizant of the importance of teams, Petruzella has built numerous op-
portunities throughout the course to collaborate and promote the benefits of
group work in the Dungeons and Discourse model. Although the initial ex-
ploration of the realms is individual, for the activities and assessments stu-
dents are organized into groups of four or five and encouraged to collaborate
to look for details and come to understandings that individually they may
have missed. Students who w
ere interviewed reflected positively on the im-
plementation of the team elements. Betti comments:
As a class we rated higher than average for participation . . . I think it (the teamwork)
forced p
eople to get together more—my team got together to discuss things as we
needed to. As far as people being apprehensive about asking questions, I think it
became much easier as the semester went on and you had to work more and more
with each other. When other people weren’t sure what the answer was, that forces
more people to talk about it. Being a game, it feels like it’s not a classroom so you
don’t feel boxed in pressure thinking. It builds critical thinking; it builds creative skills.
Reflecting on the noncurricular effect of embedded teamwork, he whimsi-

cally remarked that, just as during high school, teamwork leading to social
skill development is a valid exercise. As he put it, “Let’s face it, college is just
an expensive version of high school.”
The student also elaborated on the effectiveness of teamwork despite his
own personal reticence to interact freely in a more typical classroom envi-
ronment: “I mean, I’m going to make a point to say hello to the person next
to me and across from me and maybe move seats once during the term. But
the group projects—I had to do two of them. I don’t enjoy d
oing group work,
so I’m in an uncomfortable environment where I have to overcome my little
118 Game On!
Figure 16. The m
other ship from Phoenix, an early video game boss.
fears. It helped a lot—we learned a lot b

ecause everyone really wanted to
learn.”
Boss Battles
The Urban Dictionary describes a “boss battle” as any encounter or situation

that is particularly difficult or challenging (video game example in figure 16).
A fight with a boss character is commonly referred to as a boss b
attle or boss
fight. Boss battles are generally seen at the climax of a particular section of a
video game, usually at the end of a stage or level, or guarding a specific objec-
tive. The boss character is generally far stronger than the opponents the player
has faced up to that point (Urban Dictionary 2013). Translated to an academic
environment, the metaphor lends itself to a final assessment or challenge that
tests learning and knowledge accrued to that point.
Petruzella used the Canvas Assignment feature to develop boss fights at the
end of a section or realm. He created these elements with a narrative setup
where the e nemy character in the story presents a speech featuring informal
fallacies to which the students have to prepare rebuttals. When he ran the
class the second time in 2013, Petruzella ran in-person extensions to the boss
fights with former students returning to argue philosophy in character as
the “wise, old, hoary boss.” As he affectionately reminisced, costumes were
worn, and, even more encouragingly, the former students demonstrated re-
tention of knowledge and philosophical arguments they had studied the year
before.
Boss b
attles were referenced by developers and interested faculty at insti-
tutions in prior chapters, but at most institutions, no one had found a means
of developing anything to approximate the principle. In this respect, despite
the lack of any funding and minimal technical support, Petruzella is ad-
vanced in his implementation of this element at MCLA. In the b
attles with
the boss figure, students w
ere organized in teams with assigned roles given
by the instructor to each team member. Each group was given a specific task.
One group analyzed the writing, identifying fallacies (factual and philosoph-
ical inaccuracies), while the other group worked on presentation (a rebuttal
to be presented to the w
hole class). The groups shared their work using the
collaborate tool in Canvas. A student describes his experience of the boss
battle, his enthusiasm apparent:
For the exams, each realm had a boss—he’s the king, he’s the mayor, whatever you
want to call it. And with the first one, the first city which was Logos, he had argu-
ments about using logic and using research and t hings like that—you had to debunk
his arguments b
ecause they saw us as threats, essentially trying to overthrow the nice
little cozy pad that he had established for himself. So he’s trying to say all these lies
from history and everything else and we had to go back in time essentially through
research, and say, no this isn’t what caused this, this caused this. So we ended up lib-
erating the p
eople of Logos and they were able to go about their lives.
Outcomes
In a class with 15 to 20 students, Petruzella admitted to struggling to keep up

with class updates. He was unable to automate a satisfactory feedback process
and failed, according to the students and him, to keep up with manual pro
cesses such as awarding and tracking gold awards based on marketplace par-
ticipation. Petruzella’s reflections focused less on the incremental gold and
more on the assessment elements in the course. He describes his concern
about scaling as a limiting f actor, stating: “I would say that most of the scaling
concern would come dealing with assessment. I guess that’s not surprising.
120 Game On!
Given the particular subject area that I’m doing, philosophy, there’s only so
far you can go with auto-graded sort of assessments. You’re talking about
philosophical discussion and dialog, so the 800-lb. gorilla in the room is scal-
ing assessment.”
He had considered peer grading, stopping short of what he calls the “xMOOC
idea,” where “I create this packaged t hing and then just put it out t here and let
everyone just run through it.” He continued, “You know, when I look at these
MOOCs and I see, ‘Hey let’s all 3,000 of us go to this Google Plus hangout on
Thursday night and . . .’ Yeah, right.” He f avors more efficient or sophisticated
models that could make use of social features in a similar way that Reddit—
the self-declared “Front Page of the Internet”—does. Reddit incorporates peer
voting and a complex algorithm to encourage participant engagement, weight-
ing new and interesting posts or articles more heavily while letting older
posts wane or fade. In a similar manner, Petruzella envisioned students’ gold
piles fading without their engagement. As he explains: “I’m thinking p
eople
surely have gotten further along [than simple peer assessment]—thinking of
things like Reddit where t here’s this really robust—you know, vote up, vote
down, and it’s not totally random, not just the Wisdom of the Crowds—the
notion of, somehow, a privileged user or privileged commenter who has
some sort of credentialing with extra weighting.”
Students’ candid, quite critical but supportive, commentary identified two
key areas for improvement. The first emphasized the need for the instructor
in a totally manual course to keep up with basic features such as the gold
awards. Students described the instructor’s failure to keep us as demoralizing,
in part because at course launch the system had seemed to hold such promise.
Betti again comments: “At the end of the course, if you looked at my gold, I was
negative 50-something gold, and it w
asn’t because I wasn’t asking questions.
I’m an active participant in class. But it’s because questions weren’t being re-
corded or the value of our questions w
asn’t being recorded or not put in the
program. I think it demanded a lot of Petruzella as a professor to keep up
with the game.”
He reiterated this minimum requirement as the first target for the instruc-
tor to improve in subsequent class launches. “The gold has to be better—he
doesn’t have to do the character profile pages, but the gold, he has to record
that and get that in the system. You c an’t do your assignments if you d
on’t
have your gold and if y
ou’re trying r eally hard next class to ask questions and
that doesn’t get recognized.”
The lack of technical sophistication in Petruzella’s course build was con-

sidered a disappointment for participants, although again they couched this
criticism in encouraging and supportive language. A fter the gold-maintenance
issue, the next recommended area for improvement was to provide a means,
even a perfunctory one, of visually illustrating and tracking progress through
realms.
Stanley commented, “My impression when I first saw the realm graphic was
that I would have a character that I would literally move through a little land
on a computer . . . but t here w
asn’t any of that. It was like, ‘Alright, class, now
we’re in this land.’ So there wasn’t actually any gaming going on.” He specu-
lates about how greater use of technology could improve the course. “If you
could write a program where you could actually take your character and go
through this preset l ittle land and you are forced to go in this direction like an
RPG [Role Playing Game] kind of t hing—then I think it’s a g
reat idea. I think
it’s a fabulous idea, and it could be entirely online.”
As a self-declared gamer, Stanley had strong recommendations for an im-
proved second version. He outlined the kind of development that he would
encourage:
The biggest thing would be the visual, the cinematics. If I were to boil down any
core—there’d need to be a log-in basis and you’d have to spend some time
logged in or you’d lose points or something. T
here’d need to be some structured
communication—you could even use Skype. For gaming online, I use TeamSpeak
where you can have 80 people on a server talking. Just for now, I don’t see visuals
being used effectively. You can use other game-development tools like the SDK
gaming program at home . . . I’ve seen a lot of great games come out of develop-
ment kits like that. It’s literally just walking down a corridor, and you can take [a]
left, turn right.”
In terms of core academic elements, Petruzella adhered to the content of

the traditional PHL 100 course and developed course outcomes to be consis-
tent with t hose of traditional sections. In a direct comparison with his own
former iterations of the PHL 100 class, Petruzella’s average grade for the two
gamified courses was 78.86 compared to an average of 70.82 for the two prior
terms the course ran as a traditional, nongamified course. He certainly leans
toward the conclusion that the gamified elements are making a real differ-
ence while acknowledging that his small sample sizes make any conclusions
about course efficacy, student engagement, and grades tenuous at best. He
122 Game On!
does not let that uncertainty dissuade him from reflecting on another out-
come (or possible anomaly) that he intends to continue to observe in f uture
iterations:
Looking at some of the numbers, it looks like there is a slightly higher percentage of
students who ended up declaring philosophy majors, who took the (gamified) Dun-
geons and Discourse version when compared with a couple of years ago when I
taught it as a standard. Because it’s a PHL 100 course we get a wide range of majors
taking it, and, because it’s a freshman-level course, we also get a fair number of first-
semester freshmen and, in this case, second-semester freshmen who may or may
not have declared a major at this stage.
Petruzella feels that the gamified format is best suited to introductory

courses, where students lack what he calls the intrinsic motivation of prior
success. His working hypothesis is that MCLA students, who include large
numbers of first-generation college attendees and students from low-income
families, need a boost to get on board with the concept and practice of higher
education. Petruzella asserts that if these students can get through entry-
level classes and start to dig into a subject area, the content of the course it-
self intrinsically may motivate them to persist. Prior to that state, he feels
that any means of encouragement—including gamification—must be worth
exploring.
My suspicion is that gamifying might have a disproportionate effect with respect to

100 and 200 level “Intro to” sort of survey courses and maybe less so as you start to
get into the upper-classman seminars, at which point you are dealing primarily with
majors who are committed to a field of interest and have, sort of, developed a
mature interest [in] a discipline and are ready to really engage deeply in a way that
freshmen are not necessarily. So I sense that a lot of the value certainly does come
from the engagement—grabbing a student’s sense of curiosity and playfulness and
doing a bit of a transition.
As noted in the case study of the gamified course at UW, while competi-
tion and meritocratic reward may be a valuable tool, gamification seems to
have the potential to encourage students who are not near the top of the class
in terms of traditional achievement. Betti suggests this benefit, stating:
I think everybody learns differently. B

ecause of the fact that there are the visual cues,
it levels the playing field—there’s no smart or stupid person in the game. I think it
helps all students. I’m a straight A student anyway, but I know a couple of guys in the
class . . . I mean—everybody’s smarter at something than someone . . . And it allows
people to relate to each other b
ecause, you know—this guy’s r eally smart, but if he’s
stuck on this, maybe we can figure it out. So, there’s involuntary teamwork there . . .
there is g
oing to be some part of it that’s going to advance somebody.
Petruzella wants to add further means of encouragement and affirmation

in f uture versions of his gamified course:
I’m thinking I would like to add badges. I would have some that are sort of seren-
dipitous, you know, the idea of someone happens across a hidden component or
someone follows a path further than expected or further than required and discov-
ers some sort of bonus. So I’d have the badge for the going-above-and-beyond kind
of phenomenon, but I’d also want some sort of core badges available just for most
students who just got through and accomplish the quests as explained, as pre-
sented, rather than necessarily g
oing off on their own.
Finally, although at times critical, students’ conclusions were constructive

and gave the sense that they really want to see this kind of model succeed.
Stanley describes this potential: “Class was less like class; it was more like
playing a game, and it made it very easy to fall into it . . . at least [for] me. I
looked forward to every time I had philosophy.” Attempting to compare like
for like in terms of his own experience in Petruzella’s course, Betti concludes,
“I wish I had something to compare this against, I really do, but this is my
first philosophy course. I wish I could say, ‘In my first philosophy course,
where it was all books . . .’ I know I learned a lot and I retained a lot—I can
answer . . . a lot of questions about Socrates and about Plato. I’m all about it.
I was just so interested in the topic.”
He describes how the class was motivated in a way that was novel to him
compared to what he had experienced in other, nongamified courses: “There
was very rarely a day when we went in tired in the morning and w
ere like,
‘Oh, we don’t want to do anything.’ I d
on’t know if the incentive came from
the game or our participation. We’d go in, we’d say our next challenge is the
dread relativist and w
ere talking about w
hether this applies or that. Ask our
questions—‘How can we arm ourselves better against him?’—that kind of
thing.”
His takeaway from the gamified class was that his learning would per-
sist longer than in his other classes. “People on the outside may say, ‘Oh
124 Game On!
they’re just playing games,’ but they’re going to be learning something

from it, which is more than I can say for many normal classes where you have
that normal class [routine of] cram for the exam, pass the exam, and then
forget.”
Despite quite candid feedback on the shortcomings of the Dungeons and
Discourse course format, the student interviewees were encouraging and in-
terested enough to summarize the potential of gamification in a format such
as Petruzella developed. The student excitement at the potential for gamifica-
tion and gamified courses raises the question of w
hether Petruzella’s work
might be extended or better supported at his institution. Petruzella noted
that one challenge is the relative isolation in which faculty tend to construct
their courses: “It seems to me that there is a growing number of p
eople [at
multiple institutions] doing really good things with gamification. I think
generally a barrier is that everyone is working in his or her course. I’m work-
ing in my Philosophy 100 course, and it’s all well and good and I have the
freedom to do whatever I want in that context, but my students next semes-
ter are g
oing to go and take Philosophy 200 or 240 or t hey’re g
oing to take
History 100.”
He speculates that these experiments may remain isolated for some time
to come, in part, because the institution has not formally embraced this model
while at the same time, faculty tend to operate in isolation with few opportu-
nities to collaborate effectively: “We d
on’t have an infrastructure as a college
within which a gamified course has any significance beyond itself. From the
point of view of MCLA, Dungeons and Discourse is still just PHIL 100, which
amounts to three credits, and students get an A, B, C, D, or F in it, and that
meets certain graduation requirements and major requirements as PHIL
100—that’s what the college sees, no m
atter what crazy things I’m doing
within the guts.”
Petruzella believes that gamification has a potential role within higher
education at large but describes a middle-ground scenario where gamifica-
tion is established but not widespread. He feels that the best-case scenario
would be if gamification could carve itself out a place as a v iable path in
higher education. He clarifies that he doesn’t think gamification needs to be
the standard or needs to replace credit-based higher ed. “I would be happy to
live in a world where t here are colleges that do a game-based bachelor’s [de-
gree] or even a game-based major. I would be happy to see t hose exist side by
side with these more traditional models.”
Where Are They Now?
In a follow-up conversation I discussed how far Petruzella had got with his gamification
interests in the two years since we last compared notes.
BELL —Since we talked around 2013–2014, where are you at? Where did you get to?
PETRUZELL A —Since that point, I’m in the situation where I’m full-time d
oing this aca-
demic tech thing and teaching one course over that in a rotation. I’ve taught the
Dungeons and Discourse course one time since then. In spring 2015 I ran it again,
and I [am] on the books to teach it again in fall [2016]. So it’s quite firmly established
in the college catalog now. The course this coming term is part of our college’s first-
year college experience.
BELL —Did you modify it at all?
PETRUZELL A —Yes, but I didn’t mix modifications. Some were merely structural, respond-
ing to the platform [Canvas] developments as they introduced new features over
time. I also made a conscientious decision to develop the character of Del the Oracle.
I had a placeholder when we last talked—another persona representing another per-
son, another voice beyond my own for students to interact with. So I actually gave
that role to my TA, to represent Del the Oracle as another point of access into the
game world. I remember that I did that this last time I taught, so that was an addi-
tion—an expansion of the game world, another non-player character, as it w
ere.
Another piece that I added in was when Canvas rolled out a plug-in for easy
badges, so I started to assimilate some. It wasn’t systematically, just the occasional ‘you
get a badge for discovering an Easter egg’ or something like that. I d
idn’t roll out
badges as a systematic part of core piece of the game—just as an additional experi-
ence in the game play.
The third t hing I remember I developed was basically kind of a store. I had devel-
oped a method for students to acquire gold pieces through class discussions by com-
ing into the marketplace and earning gold pieces. And at that point, the first c ouple
of times around, there wasn’t any structure around use of the gold pieces. It was sort
of a bare placeholder, and you couldn’t do much with them. So what I ended up
doing was pretty straightforward. I threw up a Google form representing the store
with several options associated with certain numbers of gold pieces that students
could choose to cash in by submitting a request through the form. So that was some-
thing I wanted to try out . . . low-level, if you had five gold pieces you could cash
them in for a twelve-hour extension on a particular deliverable—things like that.
BELL —So more academic constructs rather than game elements?
126 Game On!
PETRUZELL A —
It was a mixture. Some were explicit to the course environment, some
were more fun, like a free download of a song in the course. There were probably
about 10 different options representing difficulty and levels of challenge. The fourth
change that I made was again not really within the game play but more the struc-
ture of the course itself, and I did contract grading with students that semester. At
the beginning of the term I offered them three different paths, essentially, and they
selected what kind of effort, what kinds of t hings they wanted to do, and what sort
of final academic grade that would get you for the successful completion of this
path versus [another path]. So they chose one at the beginning, and just about a
third to half of the way through the class, around midterms, we revisited it, and I
said, “OK, think back as to what you selected at the beginning. We are about half-
way through what we need to do, half our time together. Does that still feel accu-
rate to you? Is this still the path you want to choose? Do you want to change it?” So
I gave them a midpoint opportunity to renegotiate the path they had created.
Those are the four things I remember doing differently this past time round.
BELL —Back to Del the Oracle—was that a typical GA/TA mentor sort of role? W
ere they
guiding or w
ere they cheerleading?
PETRUZELL A —A little of this and a little bit of that. Certainly, the core responsibility of
the TA was student support. In the character of Del, the access point was in a course
discussion. It was a dedicated discussion area where students could ask for help on
anything over the course of the semester that they w
ere encountering, w
hether it
was a difficult scroll or a challenging quest or whatever it was, and the TA (as the
character of Del), would respond in this typical cryptic oracle/oracular kind of way.
So their persona in this response was intentionally mysterious and was intentionally
not in the business of giving a direct answer. It was my intention, in explaining the
role, the TA was to be helpful but not to give direct answers, but to hint, to direct,
to nudge in a direction, to encourage the student to reach out to another resource
that would be helpful in finding the answer. So that was the model of the oracle,
and it helped that the TA for that particular semester was very familiar [with] classi-
cal models of oracles so almost immediately got what I was a fter with that.
BELL —
These sound like g
reat enhancements. So what did you learn? What worked?
What changed with these enhancements?
PETRUZELL A —
I would say one thing I immediately learned, one strong lesson I took
away, is that building [the game] in itself does not make them come. Mentioning
Del the Oracle as an example, I had to mention Del the Oracle almost on a weekly
basis to remind students that Del was available and a good resource. And this is just
a particular example of a more general observation, I suppose—you can mention to
students as many resources as you like, but mentioning them is rarely enough. You
need to, I needed to, prioritize them myself through constant reference to encour-
age the students to internalize that importance. So that was sort of a process lesson
for me. I’m not sure, but I think the contract grading was useful to students, but
that’s just based on my own observation. Looking back, I know that relatively few
students, a small handful of students, chose the midterm semester opportunity to
change or to revise their contract.
In most of t hose cases students chose to revise upward. Some students who had
chosen the C [grade] path chose to upgrade and said, ‘I’m ready to tackle the more
challenging path and go for the B.’ So that was encouraging—but the majority of
the students stayed with what they initially chose. I’m not sure how to interpret that
or what that means.
BELL —
When we first spoke you had sensed, rather than quantified, a slight upwards
movement in student grading and engagement, and you had reflected that a greater
proportion of students had declared philosophy as a major. Did those patterns per-
sist, and did you see a net effect of your efforts?
PETRUZELL A —I did get a little bit more insight into more quantifiable elements of the
project. One of the improvements in the platform was the development of an ana-
lytics dashboard at the course level for the faculty. Through that I could see engage-
ment over time, aggregated over the course, and generally I saw strong patterns of
engagement. I’m d
oing a side-by-side analysis of the gamified course versus the
traditional. I would say that those initial observations did persist, and now I’m getting
more numbers to back that up. But we’re still talking really small sample sizes. This
past term we had around 20 students, so again small numbers but clearly more
engagement.
BELL —One other t hing that stood out was your extension of your work to a more gen-
eral discussion around unconscious bias. I recall you had fostered discussions at fac-
ulty senate or curriculum committee around equity and removal of bias and that this
had resonated with faculty. Did your work in this area gain any further traction?
PETRUZELL A —Directly, not so much. I haven’t, for example, convinced the philosophy
department to convert a bunch of their courses to incorporate gamified elements or
anything like that. That would be pretty spiffy if that happened—but it didn’t. What
has happened is that I have incorporated a lot of the lessons I have learned, the in-
sights I have gained, into my work in academic technology. Just in general I work
with faculty a lot one-on-one in terms of course development and design, and I
make sure as part of those conversations I bring up and suggest some of these con-
siderations that have been meaningful in my experience. When faculty are working
128 Game On!
with me to develop a course, whether it’s hybrid, online, or face-to-face, I may out-
line and say, “Well, this is a very interesting discussion topic.” I try to appeal to fac-
ulty’s own experience with this b
ecause t here are a w
hole lot of access points, “So
you know there is always this risk of discussions being dominated by some very
strong voices, so h
ere we are developing this discussion in a new medium for you so
let’s think about it. Are there tools available to us that could offset some of that risk?
Have you thought about defining specific discussion roles?” By way of example, a
lot of people will create a discussion and expect everyone to give the same type of
response, be it analysis or reaction. So instead of that, what if you tap certain types
of p
eople and say, “Your role in this discussion is to play a devil’s advocate so your
responses should be geared that way.” Then you create other subsets whereas your
role in this discussion is, say, a researcher, so your only role is finding further links to
support the reactions that people give. So something like differentiating roles in a
discussion. This is not directly coming out of the Dungeons and Discourse experi-
ence, but it is very much resting on the same principles and the observations that
have been formed to what I do. So that’s connected to my part of work d
oing the
instructional design stuff.
I probably mentioned when last we spoke that t here was another faculty member
in the philosophy department who was interested in including some gamified ele
ments in his course. He teaches a logic and critical thinking course pretty regularly.
He w
asn’t interested in doing a top-to-bottom restructuring as I did, but he wanted
to include what he called ‘Gladiator Logic’ games as a unit (at least within the broader
context of his traditional course structure). He’s not necessarily thinking about gamifi-
cation as pedagogy. He’s using this as a general engagement type of choice, but it is
something that has latched on a certain bit. His practice has at least been encouraged
by what I’ve been doing. It’s a sort of a team completion sort of model. He teaches
this face-to-face in a kind of Jeopardy-style, time-restricted sort of competition.
In terms of other paths of influence, my course has been designated a first-year
experience course. Mine w
ill be the gamified one, so students w
ill be exposed to
this early in their experience here. Our digital librarian is interested in developing
virtual campus tours, etc., so she tends to be quite involved in the first-year experi-
ence also. She’s another promising person on campus that is interested in a sort of
augmented reality tour with QR codes around campus—that kind of t hing.
BELL —
What would take it to the next level at your campus? What’s needed in your
opinion?
PETRUZELL A —I d
on’t think politics is one of our bigger issues. I would say our culture
here is pretty receptive in terms of trying things like this out. The biggest issue that
I could identify right now is lack of support resources (insofar as gamification is not
tied necessarily to technology), as a lot of the most evident and accessible points of
access do tend to be related to technology, and right now our Center for Academic
Technology is me—I’m it. I had a half-time colleague who retired this past semester,
so right now any and all faculty who have any sort interest in learning something
new (be it developing a project, doing instructional design, d
oing course redesign,
learning how to teach online, troubleshooting issues with LMS or e-portfolios) that’s
all on one person at the institution at the moment. So it’s a bottleneck, is r eally what
it is. I w
ill be out connecting with other p
eople in academic now at conferences and
places and I always think, “Ahh, you have six people in your office—how nice that
must be.”
BELL —W hat about the changing demographics, etc.? Other higher ed challenges? Do
you have any other reflections? Is it worth the effort?
PETRUZELL A —I still think that it’s valuable, and I think it’s a good pedagogical path. I do
still think that. I think that in the intervening time I have noticed some more of these
issues getting a bit more mainstream in the educational conversations. So that’s in
teresting because some of the ideas that may have been new-seeming several cycles
ago have been a bit more taken for granted, a bit more taken as common wisdom in
certain circles, and I think that recognizing the value of play and the value of allow-
ing students the space to fail without penalty—those are a couple of the particular,
general ideas that have gained more traction over the intervening time. And since
those are core to a lot of what I was thinking and have been trying to do with this—
that’s encouraging to me. That makes me think, “Alright, so these things are start-
ing to be recognized as useful and valuable. They are starting to have proven their
merit a bit more in practice.” So maybe initially it was an exciting idea that seemed
like it would work, but now it seems like people have been trying it for a while now,
and it seems to have worked. So t here’s that reinforcement cycle, I think, g
oing on
broadly. I do think that institutions, including my own, are starting to get a bit more
serious about strategizing to reach out to expand the population we are trying to
reach. We have seen some of the hype cycles reach their conclusion around things
like MOOCs and whatnot, but coming out of the other side of that we still do have
a core of things that we want to commit to.
We definitely want to commit with outreach to disadvantaged students—that’s
always been a part of the mission of certainly what my institution is d
oing. W
e’re
starting to get a lot more technically literate staff and faculty as we start to hire new
people. We’re seeing that shift happen, where I’m finding I need to make the case
less. Newer faculty coming in are like “Yeah, of course” rather than “Oh, what is
130 Game On!
this?” So to cycle back to your question—yes, I’m still committed to pursuing gami-
fication as a method that does, I think, at least two r eally important things.
One is to provide new and/or disadvantaged students an opportunity to learn
from mistakes or failures or not quite coming in with all the tools. Gamification does
that, and that’s been shown to be really a critical piece of what we’re after. I think
also t here’s that element of games as presenting the experience of higher ed as an
experience that students come to want for its own sake. And that’s always a con-
stant worry in conversations that I have and that I hear. The worry, the commodifi-
cation of higher ed—that students look at it as an experience that’s just as a means
to an end, whereas having a gameful kind of experience challenges that. You d
on’t
play a game just for the sake of having a high-paying job at the other side of it. The
game experience is its own reward in that way, so insofar as we can present learning
to students in a way that is intrinsically enjoyable, I think that’s a second really impor
tant advantage to pursuing gamification.
BELL —Do you still play games?
PETRUZELL A —I do, yes indeed. Certainly less than I would like given pesky things like
work get in the way. I still play board games and online. I have to say it’s been a bit
since I’ve logged into Steam. T
here’s a really cool tabletop game that I just backed
on Kickstarter based on a book that I really loved. So I’m still in it a little bit. I still try
to practice what I preach.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Threat of Crime and Terrorism
Founded as the Farmer’s High School of Pennsylvania in 1855, via a spell as

the Agricultural College of Pennsylvania, Penn State College became The
Pennsylvania State University (Penn State) in 1953. By 2003 it had grown to
the extent that it had the second-largest impact on the state economy of any
organization in Pennsylvania, generating an economic effect of over $17 bil-
lion. The mission statement of this research-intensive university emphasizes
teaching, research, and public serv ice. With an annual enrollment of close to
100,000 across its 24 campuses and online, it is one of the biggest universities
in the United States. Famous alumni include Kelly Ayotte (former US senator),
William Perry (former United States secretary of defense), John Aniston (actor
on Days of Our Lives; Jennifer’s dad), Immortal Technique (political activist,
rapper), Hugh Edwin Rodham (Hilary’s brother), and a multitude of football
and baseball players. On the fictional side, Dr. Abby Lockhart (of the TV
show ER) and, in a nice piece of symmetry with the University of South Flor-
ida’s Hulk Hogan (who is real and mentioned in chapter 3), Dr. Bruce Banner,
whose alter ego was The (Incredible) Hulk, are Penn State alumni. It is not
documented w
hether The Hulk played football for the Nittany Lions—he
would have been a heck of a nose guard. Penn State’s student body is 75.4%
White, 5.5% Black, 4.3% Asian, 4.4% Hispanic, 0.2% Native American, 0.1%
Native Hawaiian / Pacific Islander, 1.7% two or more races, 5.8% international,
and 3.1% unreported. Undergraduate annual tuition and fees in 2016 were
$17,514 for in-state students and $31,346 for out-of-state students, with
$12,000 to $14,926 estimated for additional costs (room, meals, books, and
supplies) for all students. Graduate costs vary by program; the MBA goes for
$23,708 annually for in-state and $38,068 for out-of-state students.
Fred Aebli is a former major in the United States Marine Corps, where he
worked aviation logistics. He joined Penn State in 1999 and worked on both the
two-year and four-year curriculum in the information sciences and technology
132 Game On!
(IST) degree. Based at Penn’s Worthington Scranton campus, he teaches online

courses for their World Campus, is the IST program coordinator, and manages
IST internship and community outreach programs. His recent non-teaching
work has included an analysis of distant synchronous information systems
courses and, at the annual Online Learning Consortium International Con-
ference, a presentation on gamification techniques parenthetically titled “Turn-
ing an International Terror Plot into a Classroom Game.”
Aebli grew up as an only child in Scranton, Pennsylvania. His father passed
away in the summer of 1977 when he was nine years old, and, as is so often the
case, the loss cemented many events around that time in his mind for perpe-
tuity. He was supported through the love of 12 aunts, uncles, and cousins
and clearly managed to glean a happy childhood despite his father’s death.
One member of this f amily support team, an u
ncle in Arizona, informed him
of the upcoming release of a movie that seemed to be worth seeing based on
rave reviews in the media. It was called Star Wars, and, as Aebli recalls to this
day, it was like nothing he had ever seen. When young Aebli finally got to see
the movie, he was blown away. The adventure and his imagination allowed
him to mentally leave behind his own challenges, replacing them with a
journey to the stars and beyond, roleplaying different characters and creat-
ing new storylines in which he was central. The technology underlying the
Star Wars movie fascinated him, and he latched on to all things related to
space travel and science fiction. He lived and breathed all t hings Star Wars for
many of his formative years and recreated that world through toys, models,
and, as he grew older, through the fledgling world of computers. Play had al-
ways been a means of escape for Aebli, and, prior to his Star Wars exposure, his
mom had fed and encouraged his imagination buying him action figures and
construction kits. It was, however, his discovery of the Atari 2600 in the early
1980s that put him on the path of true creativity and creativity with an end
product; he began to learn how to make (or code) “his own stuff.”
When playing with these early home video games, Aebli became intrigued
and challenged himself to learn how to get u
nder the hood hacking and writ-
ing new code, putting him on the path to software development and pro-
gramming. As this interest grew, his relatives realized that this was a hobby
to be encouraged. He was given first a Timex Sinclair 1000 and later a Com-
modore 64 on which he taught himself BASIC programming. Moving on to
high school he found like-minded friends within the Dungeons & Dragons
crowd, and he, perhaps to impress these new friends, started to challenge
Threat of Crime and Terrorism 133
himself to develop Dungeons & Dragons–like role-playing games. With 8-bit

graphics and his newly acquired skills he managed to create simple path-
based games developing the twin sides of his interests in real technology and
creative fantasy. Progressing through high school, still walking this m
iddle
ground between reality and the stars, Aebli decided that he wanted to be-
come an astronaut. As a first step on that path and to help secure his own
education, he decided to serve his country in the military. A long-time f amily
friend of his mother suggested he shoot for a pilot career in the marine corps
(again, one step closer to the stars). Aebli attended marine corps Officer Can-
didate School, graduated from Penn State with a computer science/math de-
gree, and received his commission as a second lieutenant in the United States
Marine Corps. However, the g
iant leap to becoming an astronaut proved be-
yond him because of his lack of a terminal science degree. Not allowing that
disappointment to blunt his energy, after a rewarding c areer in the marine
corps, he entered serv ice in the US Army and went back to school as an
active-duty soldier to receive his Master’s of Informational Systems Resource
Management degree. In a clear summary of Aebli’s humor and never-say-die
attitude, he has a news clipping on his home refrigerator reading “Astronaut
Applications Being Accepted.” Nothing gets this man down.
On discharge from the US Army, Aebli was determined to further his tech-
nology experiences that he had begun when on active duty. The Internet was
now a t hing, and he realized that his experience to that point meant that he
could build new t hings for this new environment. Proficient in HTML, Flash,
graphics, and coding, he was hired by Bell Atlantic to lead a software project
before leaving to work for an Oracle consulting group at a nuclear plant in
Berwick, Pennsylvania. While there he started to teach night classes, and,
after a round of corporate downsizing, he explored the possibility of teaching
back at his alma mater. His former computer science professor told him of a new
degree that the university was starting called information sciences and tech-
nology and encouraged him to apply. He has now been teaching there for over
16 years. Over that period, he has created many courses from scratch, coordi-
nated the IST internship program, and engaged the campus in what he calls a
“pre-incubator business startup hub” to foster new ideas and innovations. Up-
permost in his teaching philosophy has been the sentiment that got him
through and beyond his own personal challenges: “Learning should be fun.”
When the university developed a security and risk analysis (SRA) curricu-
lum as a minor for the IST majors in 2012, Aebli was assigned SRA 211: Threat
134 Game On!
Figure 17. Screenshot from the Penn State Threat of Terrorism and Crime SRA 211 course.
© Fred Aebli, Penn State University; used with permission.
of Crime and Terrorism (figure 17). The university website describes this
minor as “intended to familiarize students with the general framework and
multidisciplinary theories that define security and related risk analysis . . .
providing a grounding in analysis and modeling used in information search,
visualization and creative problem solving.”
Students typically take SRA 211, Aebli’s course, as rising sophomores, and
it is offered once a year in the spring as a resident course. It was initially de-
veloped and delivered in Penn State’s Angel learning management system
(LMS) but was ported, as w
ere all institutional courses, to Instructure’s Can-
vas platform when the university transitioned in 2015. The program target
demographic, and indeed the student body generally at Penn State, consists
of technology-comfortable students of traditional college age with some
nontraditional and active-duty US military personnel and veterans alongside
them. Most of the students are familiar with video game play, but t here has
also been a developing vibe around more traditional board games. Aebli
himself recognizes this and serves as an advisor to both the IST Club and to
the League of Extraordinary Gamers Club (LEG). This latter LEG group has
had recent near-exponential growth. Aebli oversees rooms filled with young
people engaging directly with many different types of board games, eschew-
ing, at least for a short period, cell phones and related technologies.
Aebli’s first attempt to gamify SRA 211 was driven by his desire to create a
more engaging experience in and out of the classroom. Thinking back to his
time in the marines, he reflected, “Turning anything into a game automati-
cally makes it more engaging . . . You definitely see it in the military. You see
engagement go up when you train Marines in realistic scenarios, so I thought,
why wouldn’t it work for my students? Why should they have to learn solely
from listening to lectures and reading textbooks?”
Aebli’s version 1.0 of this project was developed as a role-play game that
represented the structure and format of the G8’s counterterrorism working
group. The G8 (at time of the course actually the G7) is a governmental po
litical forum that has evolved from an initial group of six member states
(France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the United Kingdom, and the United States)
in 1975 who got together to debate and formulate mutually beneficial local
and international policies. The G6 became the G7 in 1976, when Canada
joined; Russia also signed up in 1997, making it the G8. When Russia was sus-
pended in 2014 on the basis of their annexation of Crimea and intimidating
behavior toward Ukraine, everyone arrived back at G7. Doubtless that w ill
change again soon, but let’s leave it at that for now.
Within the G8 t here are many subgroups, and one of them, the Roma-
Lyons group, established in 2001 under Italian presidency (countries rotate
and switch the leadership role), looks at strategies around terrorism and trans-
national crime. Roma-Lyons meets three times a year when members debate
and develop prevention and mitigation strategies. Roma-Lyons members are
drawn from the member countries and are typically foreign or interior minis-
try representatives of their respective nations. The group, in simplistic terms,
develops a shared approach, recommendations, and best practices for the
safeguarding of public security. The results of this subgroup’s work are passed
on to the G8 group’s interior and justice ministers at their annual meeting,
where they are reviewed and, in many cases, adopted as national policy for
the constituent member countries.
Aebli’s idea for the central project for his fledgling SRA 211 course was to
base the class format on the workings of the G8 Roma-Lyons Group. He as-
signed groups of students to specific countries whose national security agen-
cies w
ere to be analyzed and reported on to the class. The team assigned to
Great Britain had to analyze and review MI5’s organization, policies, and
136 Game On!
practices, while the team given Canada had to do likewise with the Canadian
Royal Mounted Police (the Mounties). With class sizes between 15 and 24
students, the average team size was small—only three to four students. At
the start of the project the Roma-Lyons players had to elect a country to chair
the group (or to serve as president) per standard G8 protocol. The members
of the chair country w
ere tasked with r unning the classroom meeting as an
assembly, organizing the other members, and overseeing the production of
critiques of their countries’ security agencies. T
hese reports, titled Bottom
Line Up Fronts (BLUFs), are a format common in US military writing, follow-
ing a protocol where conclusions and recommendations are laid out at the
beginning of the text, with the goal being to expedite decision making. One
member of each team, rising from desks with their country name displayed,
reported on their team’s BLUF to the w
hole class. The BLUF content was made
more authentic and vital through intelligence reports, provided by Aebli via
a password-protected folder in the Angel LMS. The students w
ere given one
week to collaborate in their teams and prepare their analyses.
During larger group meetings, students w
ere encouraged to ask questions
of one another while the instructor, representing the United States, would
“inject thoughts or questions in the event [he] d
idn’t see them making the
progress that [he] expected at that point in time.” The project culminated in
a final project presentation developed collectively as a full 24-member report
with each country assigned different aspects of national security and/or po
litical nuance to report out on. One group led the discussion on financing of
terrorism, another on weapons procurement, and a further team on logistics
and risks. Final presentations w
ere public, and Aebli typically invited guests. He
encouraged the students to dress in professional, business attire, and so, with
an extra sense of gravitas and one final dose of authenticity, they presented
in a large auditorium on campus.
Aebli felt that this version (1.0) of his immersive SRA 211 class, the Roma-
Lyons G8 format, was effective. But he was concerned that too many students
were disengaged; as he put it, “there was a lot of coat-tailing g
oing on.” He
realized that the small team sizes did not generate much in the way of team
competition or group dynamic. He also had a hankering to go beyond au
thentic role-playing to more recognizable gamification, leveraging his imagi-
nation and perhaps recalling his engagement with adventure narrative and
the value of creativity as a motivator. Besides, the original format was not
producing significant results in terms of student grades. He hypothesized
that he needed to develop more tension and a more competitive environ-

ment via team challenges and narrative. He started to formulate ideas around
fewer teams competing with more challenging materials, a more pronounced
narrative, and a clearer sense of a tangible achievement or reward. Version
2.0 began to take shape.
The Game
For version 2.0, working with limited support staff at the terrorism center,
Aebli revised his central project for the SRA 211 course. In the new version,
students are assigned to project teams, known as “FBI Fly Teams,” tasked with
responding as counterterrorism units to intelligence about attack threats. Fly
Teams r eally are “a t hing, defined on the FBI website as: small, highly trained
cadres of counterterrorism investigators—including special agents and intel-
ligence analysts—based at FBI Headquarters who stand ready to deploy any-
where in the world on a moment’s notice.”
A Fly Team’s mission (also from the FBI site) is ”To bring the FBI’s strategic
and tactical counterterrorism capabilities to bear in partnership with other
U.S. government agencies and foreign partner-nation entities in critical over-
seas locations to detect, penetrate and disrupt terrorist networks.” To be enlisted
onto a Fly Team, along with multilingualism, advanced medical training, and
weapons training members must have the following skills:
• Digital media exploitation and forensics expertise;

• Explosive post blast investigations;
• Advanced tactical and force protection skills;
• Tactical evasive driving;
• Hostage survival and resistance training and
• Advanced surveillance techniques.
In recent years, FBI Fly Teams have been deployed to the Boston Marathon
bombing; the US consulate attack in Benghazi, Libya; the Westgate Mall attack
in Nairobi, K
enya; the World Cup bombing in Kampala, Uganda; and the Boko
Haram kidnapping of schoolgirls in Abuja, Nigeria.
Aebli described the SRA 211 Fly Team core competency as being able to
“analyze and critically assess a large volume of threat intelligence indicating
the formation of a possible terror plot at some location around the world.” The
ultimate goal is to fully “unearth the plot and make recommendations as to
how to neutralize the risk.” With this overview articulated, he set the stage
138 Game On!
for teams within the class to compete with one another to determine the ter-
ror plot and acquire points to improve their grades. In a manner similar to
that of the board game Clue, teams w
ere told that it was their goal to learn
all the terror plot details and then report out to the FBI director (Aebli) their
team’s analysis. The target for the students preparing the analysis was to in-
clude the terror event location, an estimate of when it would happen, and
the nature of the attack (what kind of kinds of weapon w
ere to be used and the
scale, including number of potential casualties, e tc.). The course/game was
structured over a 12-week period. At the beginning of the project, Aebli took
the solution, including all pertinent details, and, in front of the class, placed
it in a large manila envelope. This was sealed and secured in his office u
ntil
the last week of the project, to be opened after all the student teams had
given their solutions.
Each week the students w
ere assigned (a lot of) readings before they took a
weekly online quiz assessing their comprehension of key details and princi
ples of the investigation. The instructor recorded their individual scores and
then calculated an average team score. On completion of the quiz reviews,
the instructor published an “intelligence batch” made up of fictitious police
reports, e-mails, satellite images, and other intelligence artifacts (figure 18).
However, only the teams that scored higher than a predetermined average
quiz grade (or, as Aebli put it, cleared that level) got access to the intelligence
batch.
Teams that scored, on average, below the required level w
ere allowed to
keep taking the quiz u
ntil they got their scores up and could move on.
Clearly, though, prompt access to the intelligence reports allowed a group to
get ahead and get closer to the solution faster. The students reacted well to
this form of motivation. One commented, “Having the intel batches released
after the completion and average score of quizzes was an interesting way of
bringing the group together for another purpose rather than just chatting
about the project. It helped us all realize that relying on others to complete
their work was essential for the group to advance further in the project.”
Aebli experimented with other means of providing information by plac-
ing intelligence in a variety of campus locations—an aspect he would like to
develop in f uture iterations. Some of his course or project enhancement ideas
center on devising puzzles to unlock those locations. “I’ve also been trying to
do some geocaching. I want to actually plant items on the campus and have
[the students] find them. So what I want to do is create a video that would
contain a puzzle, and from the video it’ll generate a URL that w
ill take them
Figure 18. Sample intelligence batch from SRA 211. © Fred Aebli, 2015; used with
permission.
to a webpage, and they’ll be able to find a map. It’s basically just that next
level of engagement, outside of the classroom, and they seem r eally receptive
to that.”
Students who completed the course in prior sessions w
ere encouraged to
come back and act as Special Agents, often peppering the active Fly Team
members with misinformation, false leads, and information intended to de-
tract from their ability to focus on the actual solution. Aebli would actively
reach out to the most engaged students from prior course iterations and ask
them to act as his moles. Aebli comments: “We have a very small campus set-
ting, and within the degree program the students all kind of see each other,
and they are aware—these are all upperclassmen, and they’ll play this up.
They’ll literally walk up to a student and they’ll say, ‘Are you doing Aebli’s ter-
ror plot now? I’ll tell you the answer,’ and t hey’ll say the wrong thing, inten-
tionally giving misinformation, and they take it all very seriously. They’re
great guys and girls.”
Another Penn State student who was originally a business major, hearing
of the class and learning that it was available as a minor in security, enrolled
and served as another “plant,” as Aebli calls him. One of the pieces of intel in
140 Game On!
the course is a map with some Arabic writing on it. Penn State doesn’t offer
Arabic, so while many try to use Google, it is of great value for them to work
with a genuine Farsi speaker. Aebli’s plant, Johnny, is Middle Eastern and
works part-time in the Penn State cafeteria. When current students need to
have the map deciphered, they have to figure out who Johnny is in the cafe-
teria and approach him to request his help. Johnny gives Aebli feedback on
how the students are doing, providing a live element to the experience and
thus allowing Aebli to tailor the flow of information. On occasion when Aebli
was traveling off campus, he would require students to provide a “proof of
life” by taking a team selfie holding up the current day’s newspaper. In another
authentic twist, active student Fly Teams w
ere penalized when “agents” or the
instructor discovered intelligence artifacts left b
ehind in public spaces. T
hese
“security breaches” w
ere treated as grading penalties toward batch releases,
slowing team access to subsequent information. Reflecting on the class and
the intelligence batches, one student commented, “When the project started,
it took a while to start making sense of the intelligence batches. It w
asn’t
until the fourth batch of intel when our team started putting the pieces to-
gether. It made me like doing the readings, and I felt addicted at some points
reading the intel batches b
ecause it was so interesting. I really felt like we
were solving a major terror plot.”
Reflecting the importance of data visualization in modern crime and ter-
rorism study, designated groups of students as a subproject were tasked with
building a social network map to represent and then review data, looking for
threatening trends. The data representation/visualization team was tasked to
report out at the team meetings and would often lead work sessions, plugging
in other countries’ data and helping analyze the results. Of their own voli-
tion, students with a more technical background developed or found tools to
aggregate and collect data. Some used Google spreadsheets integrating a macro
that allowed them to color-code cells and then tracked color frequency, analyz-
ing trends in the data to help uncover the plot.
At the conclusion of the project period, each active team had to present
their plot analysis. If a team demonstrated that they had correctly uncovered
one or two elements of the plot, they were rewarded with points to be applied
elsewhere in the course, such as to a previously scored test or assignment. Teams
deciphering all components of the plot were given points that could be applied
to their final individual course grade. For the class session when the students
presented their plot analyses, pulling on his connections and his former
career, Aebli welcomed FBI agents, National Guard intelligence officers, local
law enforcement, and campus security officers to the class presentat ions.
Many came in uniform, adding an extra sense of authenticity to the proceed-
ings. Aebli’s military background combined with his access to the terrorism
center at Penn State presented him with access to real-world practitioners who
gave concrete and motivating feedback to the students. These professionals
provided, according to Aebli, “very supportive and constructive feedback on
how to present the information in a concise and meaningful way.”
Outcomes
The instructor reported success with this approach in terms of accentuated

student engagement and retained knowledge at the end of the course. While
class participation numbers remained low, rendering quantitative compari-
sons moot, his qualitative take was quite clear and confident. He and the as-
sembled experts felt that the students w
ere better able to apply principles and
techniques (or competencies) typical of counter-terrorist experts in authentic
activities and particularly the “plot” project. Aebli reflected, “At the end of
the semester we had a feedback session where we just talked, and they said
some things that really meant a lot to me because I do strive hard to get this
project together. They were saying, ‘We’ve never had a project’—especially
the seniors—‘never had a project like this ever,’ and I think this is how they
should all be run.”
One student elaborated, “The project was unlike any other I have ever done.
The way Aebli designed it made it feel like you were really trying to solve a ter-
rorist plot. Piecing together the evidence over the semester was challenging
and fun, and he did a g
reat job at getting us motivated to solve a problem that
counter-terrorism teams work on in the real world.” Aebli’s long-term ambi-
tion is to extend the model to related courses and then even to courses in
other disciplines.
The Canvas LMS, according to Aebli, worked well at a fundamental or
“pilot” level of complexity. Aebli said, “Canvas has a r eally interesting feature
that lets you create modules. Picture a series of boxes where when y
ou’re
done with the one box and y
ou’ve achieved all the predefined elements,
you can then have access to the next box or module.” He used Canvas to
facilitate his management of the project, particularly the announcement
and communication tools, while also developing individual Fly Team work
spaces. As the students leveled up and were cleared to access the next batch of
142 Game On!
course intelligence, based on their average quiz score, Aebli dropped documents
into these individual team spaces. His actual technical build was minor, as he
set up all of the LMS work himself with minimal instructional design team
support. The only more complex aspect, more of an enhancement than an
essential, was the development of a database that allowed him to amend
dates and time stamps throughout the course documentation. His original
documents featured static dates that required updating, without which they
would lose context and authenticity. He noted that he still needed to manu-
ally amend names of key figures, and related information, illustrating an
awkward aspect of the authenticity of the courses: a lot of those named in the
documents were living people whose roles changed over time or who, in some
cases, ceased being living p
eople. Aebli commented with a degree of sangfroid,
“I guess that’s something that somebody’s proud of somewhere. It means
we’re marching forward on this, but I now have to think about who are these
actors going to be now and, subsequently, changing the names or finding
new names.” The increased automation of updates along with, he explained,
finding better ways of automating the leveling up, quiz averaging, and intel-
ligence batch releases in future versions are Aebli’s priorities for platform
development.
In terms of more ambitious enhancements, he remains interested in devel-
oping a new digital dimension and has been considering the Analyst’s Note-
book software (the class currently uses MS Visio) to assist in the tracking and
analysis of social networks. This critical aspect of terrorist plot discovery,
tracking what is often called “chatter,” can provide intimations of impending
action. On an even longer and more ambitious timeline he can see the proj
ect’s potential as a multiplayer video game and has discussed this possibility
with the student-led gaming commons group at Penn State.
Reflections
Aebli felt that in his most recent run of the class he “gave away too much” in
terms of points and their impact on grades. At Penn State, in a recent session
with the chief academic officer, the topic of grade inflation was discussed. The
discussion was wide-ranging, general, and generic (not targeted at Aebli or his
class), yet he felt that “[he] had contributed to that trend.” Aebli elaborated:
I think it’s where I placed the points. So what ended up happening—there was a
team this last time—they were the first team ever who got all three—the who, the
what and the where. It was funny. The week was during what we call “Threat Week,”
and at 5 a.m. on Monday of Threat Week you were allowed to submit your assessment.
They got up at 5:00 a.m. and submitted it with the timestamp at 5:01 a.m. They
were clearly overachievers, and a m
istake I made with this—I’ve been d
oing team-
work a lot, but I assigned the teams, and, specifically with this particular team, I
didn’t evenly distribute my seniors (and they were great students). I just got an e-
mail from one of the team who interviewed with Booz Allen, and at interview they
discussed the terror project, and I was like, “Wow, that’s cool.” So this team was
really good at analyzing, reading, and assessing, and they were really competitive.
These w
ere the seniors; this is the team that just got it. The sophomores w
ere still
like “Hey, w
e’re in college?” Then t here w
ere two other teams where one team got
two out of the three correct, so they got extra points on an exam, and the other
team just got one right, so they just got extra points on a lab grade average. But the
winning team, that correctly assessed the threat, they got extra points added on to
their final grade. I think it was five points, which is a lot. That was the winning team.
The other teams d
idn’t get so much of a boost. So I think if I w
ere to do it differently,
I would back off the total points I was awarding and redistribute it a little bit differently
over the exams and the quiz.
Aebli frames his work in a bigger and more significant metaphor. He likes
to explain to the students and their parents that college life and education
generally are not only about memorizing and regurgitating facts. He tells
the students that the biggest advantage of their college life is the opportu-
nity they are given to make better versions of themselves: more articulate,
informed, effective, and discerning critical thinkers who question and
really ponder the world around them and their place in it. He tells them
that they can only do this if they really engage with their classes, their in-
structors, their classmates, and the materials they are given to review. When
he speaks to parents at new student orientation he shares with them this
observation, further illustrating his point by indulging his Disney fandom.
As he puts it:
When you go to Walt Disney World, you get engaged with an experience. If you
were to go to another amusement park that has a roller coaster (well, Disney World
has a roller coaster)—but when you go to another park, it’s just a ride. At Disney it is
an experience. I think when you go and you get engaged in an experience, it starts
to elevate and it takes on another layer or level of significance. It starts to be the
experience that w
ill stay with you, not the r ide that lasts a minute or two.
144 Game On!
This is what he hopes for not only with his class but also with the w
hole
student experience at Penn State: making it an experience and motivating
the students intrinsically so that they research and learn beyond the mini-
mal class requirements. His goal is to produce students who, a fter the class
is done, w
ill keep reading and listening to the news with a critical ear,
students who w
ill keep discussing the issues with friends, colleagues, and
family members, getting beyond infotainment and into the substance. His
biggest reward in delivering the class is seeing students focused in the class-
room, especially certain students who have r eally engaged with the materi-
als, who go on to widen their world, listening to podcasts and paying more
attention to the news. He values the heightening of intrinsic motivation,
where they are not studying to pass a test anymore but b
ecause “it’s cool to
know about stuff.” He reflects further, “Maybe it’s a sense of awakening—
they start to realize what they are passionate about, and then they go that
route.”
Aebli’s own personal motivators clearly go beyond the target of simply get-
ting students to earn a decent grade and complete his course with an above-
average GPA. His personal incentive is grounded in a belief that while his
subject matter is of great value, the life skills that students take away may be
even more important. His students may not become international terrorism
experts in the same way that he did not (yet) become an astronaut. He wants
his students to do well in the class to help them to become better citizens. He
stresses in the class that that terrorism d
oesn’t belong to one country or reli-
gion and pushes them to question all the intelligence, including his own. As
he puts it, “I want the students to come out of the course more engaged in
current events and with a better idea of analyzing what’s going on in the
world. Sometimes students come in with assumptions and stereot ypes about
what terrorism is, and I want them to be more informed and able to think
critically about t hings.”
His use of gamification techniques certainly appears to have motivated
and encouraged students to go well beyond cramming for the test and then
immediately forgetting their learning. One of his recent students commented,
“Overall the project was fun. It helped me advance my analysis and critical
thinking skills, and I wish there were more experiences like this on campus.”
With Aebli’s enthusiasm and energy and the attention he is getting at Penn,
there doubtless soon w ill be.
Where Are They Now?
Aebli’s course was run more recently than the other cases, but I did ask him to reflect on
the evolution of the course and the feedback he had acted on regarding gamification
generally.
BELL —
I know that you have not had a g
reat deal of time between class sessions, but
what did you learn, or what have you perhaps tweaked about your gamification
principles?
AEBLI —On the administrative side, I felt that I needed to review where we w
ere at r egarding
possible FERPA [Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act] issues. I was concerned
because even though I was not sharing grades in any way through the platform, the
students w
ere discussing their performance on the quizzes and their grades with
each other. When they take the online quiz, which becomes available for a 48-or
72-hour period, they are shown their individual grade, which I then collate and re-
port out to the team as a whole. Then when they receive their team grade, particu-
larly if they h
aven’t made the level needed to progress and requiring them to take
the test again, they immediately start saying out loud, “Well I got 100 on that quiz,
what did you get?” I talked to my academic officer about that, and he said if they
are freely giving that information then it was not a concern from a FERPA perspec-
tive. With that resolution, I reflected on how interesting it actually was that when
they were doing the comparisons and asking how individual team members had
done it w
asn’t in a badgering sort of way. It was quite the opposite—in a fun, posi-
tive, peer-pressure but encouraging kind of way. The whole student group was like,
“Yeah, let’s get out there—let’s go.” They would hit it immediately, really encourag-
ing and supporting each other. They wouldn’t put it off or say, “I have to get to next
class.” They would say, “Hey, give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll go back and take the
quiz again.” As the quiz was designed to pull from a question pool, it w
asn’t the
same quiz over and over.
The other t hing that I have also noticed was the pace. Technically t here are four
batches of intelligence information that get released, but the vast majority of the
students d
on’t get a sense of urgency and engagement u
ntil right around batch
two. At that point the mountain of intel went from this big to THIS big, and most of
them get it then, that, “uh-oh, the third batch is going to be massive—let’s move—
let’s go.” And the team that correctly assessed it this year (just [based on] observing
them and hearing their conversations and seeing them work together), they got it
146 Game On!
very early on and were hugely motivated. The team that didn’t get it didn’t do those
things. They hesitated more and seemed unsure of how to proceed. When all is said
and done, I think the one t hing to my advantage, though, is the material. It’s con
temporary and authentic. My only real disappointment about this class, a bit of a
sad commentary, was that it still is disproportionately homogenous, having had 22
students in it with 21 men and only one w
oman. The [lack of] diversity is definitely
problematic for us as a discipline (not only or specifically in this class). Right now,
that’s what we see in tech—not enough females. The one woman that was in the
class was actually from Russia, and she thought it was very intriguing and told
me that she got a lot out of the class. For the most part, though, when you see
the participants in this format, t hose who r eally grab this material, they do tend to
be first-person-shooter kind of gaming guys. It’s certainly great that they immedi-
ately related it to that and they love that. I d
on’t want to lose that, but I am hoping
to engage and interest a wider pool of participants if at all possible. What inspires
and motivates me the most about this class is when I start off the first class session
by saying, “If you make it through this class, I guarantee y ou’re g
oing to be a differ
ent person by the time you’re done.” I’m confident in saying this, as what we do in
this class is we look at this w
hole issue of radicalization from a much different a ngle,
and we look at it critically. What we end up with is not the typical knee-jerk reac-
tions of, “Oh, you know . . .” the stereot ypical conclusions that they will even see in
the mainstream press and in mass media around them at times. The students start
to realize that t here is more to this issue than what is often portrayed in the media.
All the analysis and, I believe, the authenticity of those factors act as kind of a steroid
input to this project. The students really get into it, and I think they really like the
competitive piece—so it’s really something that I am proud of and that I know has
great potential for this and other classes.
BELL —W hat would take this project or the concept of gamification at Penn State to the
next level?
AEBLI —I was invited up to The University at Buffalo where they w
ere hosting a Mean-
ingful Gaming conference, a really simple, early-s tage conference. At that event
there was another professor who came off as very combative and provocative. The
first presenter who spoke was very open-minded, wanting to try new t hings, and he
made some g
reat comments. Then I got up, and I was sort of the applied guy, and I
made my comments about what I had attempted, my preliminary successes and so
on. Then the third guy got up, and he was very hard-edged, and he d
idn’t like a lot
of what we said. To be fair, he warned us ahead of schedule, saying, “You know,
when I do this kind of thing I don’t get paid a lot of money, and what I like to do is
to pick fights.” I thought it was a strange thing to say, and I’ve spent a lot of time
around guys like that in the marine corps. I started to pick up on the fact from this
guy that he was dismissing this and viewed gamifying a course as being just this
month’s new thing or a fad like the hula-hoop. I started to even question myself if
this is just a fad—this year’s MOOC? I think whatever we do, we have to make sure
that we document and demonstrate it has good results and show that the barrier to
entry is surmountable. I have shown a number of faculty that it is easy to set up and
doesn’t require a g
reat deal of technical support. So that’s the t hing I’m finding that
everyone comes up to me to ask me: “Well, how did you actually do it?” and “What
did you really do?” When I show them that it’s, you know, taking quiz scores and
averaging them to show a team average, then often my colleagues w
ill say, “What,
that’s it?” I’ve concluded that t here’s sort of a mystique to it, whereas in reality, it’s
about implementing some creative ideas, not necessarily with expensive or high-
cost build-outs. With t hose elements conveyed and illustrated I think it is possible to
get buy-in from the university. At my institution, one of the things I know they are
hoping to do is create some easy-to-follow steps that show other faculty members
how they might take their first few steps to give it a try, to usher it in.
One of the things people don’t realize is that gamification is already around
them in many formats and that it is part of our lives even in relatively mundane
ways. T
hose little key-fob things from the gas station or cards from the coffee shops
(the tags that you hang on your key that you swipe and get points), well, that’s
gamification, and people don’t make that connection. I think that so many people
are locked into thinking that it’s got to be a Warcraft strategy, virtual or board
game, with serious metaphors and high build costs. Thoughtful, creative teachers
have been trying this kind of work for years and years. The gamification is an added
flavor to spice up [already] good, or even g
reat, instruction. It doesn’t have to be
this w
hole, massive, scary production.
BELL —
So you’re moving towards a platform of changing student behavior, getting
people more engaged in current affairs and informed in how to find resources, e
tc.,
and not just academic performance for a test or a quiz?
AEBLI —
Right. So I was thinking about this. Should I try to capture some survey data
from the students who have taken the course and ask them a s imple question like,
“Are you watching the news more?” or “Are you understanding the issues more?” I
think that intrinsic motivation is a very important thing for higher education in gen-
eral. There is too much discussion going on about the cost of education, so every
one’s talking about doing something, and we’re all aware of the fact that the next
financial bubble is the financial aid bubble that is going to burst if students keep
148 Game On!
defaulting. So parents, not all parents but most, shop by the course cost not by the
experience. I had this interesting discussion with some parents the other day. These
were parents of kids who are very hyper-athletic (travel team and everything else)
who are looking to get a scholarship [at] any costs. I said to them, “Did you ever
think what you would do if you got the scholarship but it is for a Division III school
with a very poor alumni base, or it’s for a liberal arts degree where they w
ill certainly
make it through the program but they won’t get a job?” Clearly I’m being anec-
dotal, but if you get people to understand that when you’re looking at an educa-
tional institution you must look at the full breadth of it as best you can and ask
yourself what kind of experience is it going to be both in and out of the classroom?
I think, I get the sense that, that’s getting lost. So I keep trying to tell people, to help
parents when they’re shopping junior year and senior year of high school, that these
are the t hings you should want and that’s what you should be looking at. You know,
the last time a lot of t hese parents w
ere in school was 20–25 years ago, and now, all
of a sudden, they are shopping for their kids, and they’re thinking it’s still 1986, and
it’s not. It’s a lot different and a lot more expensive. Their kids need to come out
with clear, marketable skills and, even more importantly, behaviors that w
ill stand
them in good stead for the next three to four decades of their c areer in this chang-
ing world. Getting people to be motivated—the Indiana Jones spirit, I call it—I want
them to be seekers, to be ready for change, to be able to analyze and deal with un-
certainty. To be motivated even when you don’t know all the answers.
BELL —Generally is the tactic to use the game element to get them through fear of fail-
ure then get them to engagement with the subject matter?
AEBLI —There is the weird academic notion that it must be rigorous and, to an extent,
not fun b
ecause that’s what we do and if it’s not hard and challenging and super-
serious (you don’t get a C or a D) . . . you know, it’s like that . . . I started out one of
my talks with, “Why c an’t learning be fun?” I know certain t hings are hard, but even
things that are hard can be fun.
The one observation I made in my class as we debriefed at the end [with the
students] is that the authenticity of the subject matters of the activities is critical. To
illustrate how they respect this aspect, recently a professor who left our institution,
an expert in terrorism and the psychology of terrorism, made himself available for a
live interview session. The students w
ere asking him w
hether there might be a way
to use predictive analytics in a similar way as they are used in the business world to
identify or predict the likelihood that an individual is, or might become, a radical-
ized person. My former colleague was adamant about the fact that it was not a fea-
sible application. He said, “No, there are far too many risk factors and you can’t
come up with a complex enough equation that would accurately do that.” So my

students heard that talk and we discussed it, and they somewhat begrudgingly
accept[ed] his opinion. About two months later, near the end of the course, the
White House announced out that they’re g
oing to spend $500 million on a new
program called Gecko. This is a new browser-
based advertising program that’s
going to be dropping banner ads on select individuals’ PCs who they think may be
potential radical candidates. The students were like, “So if all this data over here is
saying you’re not going to be able to do that yet the White House is going to go out
and spend all these millions of dollars to do this, then who is out of alignment here?”
I was really proud of them at that moment because they picked up on that before I
did, before I recognized the contradiction. So I pulled out a bunch of material in
class that day and said “Let’s look at this, talk about this.” And it was that moment
where I saw most clearly how comprehensively they w
ere engaged in the material.
It was a really cool discussion, and it wasn’t just two guys sitting in the class holding
the whole discussion. They organized into groups enthusiastically arguing different
sides of the story. That engagement piece arrived through the project, so that’s
cool. It’s a fun, fun approach, and I wish I had learned it sooner.
BELL —
You’re making critical thinkers of your students—that’s a dangerous path you
have started on.
AEBLI —
Yeah, so it makes you walk out saying, “What have I done?” In my formative
student days, as an undergrad, I took discrete math, a philosophy course on existen-
tialism, and a Pascal programming course all in one semester. The result was I came
out thinking that I c ouldn’t believe in anything. I had just proved 1 + 1 equaled 2,
while I had read Nietzsche pretty much proving that I d
idn’t exist. Then I had the
programming class, which was challenging of its own merit. In it I had to create a
game of solitaire, but I had never played solitaire. So I had to sit down with my
grandmother when I got home so she could teach me solitaire—so my life was com-
plicated. I was on pretty uncertain ground at that stage of my academic life, but it
forced me into critical thinking and reflection. I think that’s part of what inspired me
as an educator—get the students outside their comfort zone. It’s a really cool jour-
ney to take students on, and I believe it makes them better students and hopefully
better members of society.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Assessing Gamification
CO N C L U S I O N S A N D I M P L I C AT I O N S
The cases and practitioners analyzed to this point have approached the ques-
tion of gamification in quite different ways, from Easter eggs and hero’s jour-
neys through games exploring ethical decision making, fighting bosses in
the realm of Logos, and solving threats of international terrorism. The range
of implementations makes direct comparison and even relative assessment a
challenge. None of the cases have the longitudinal or quantitative data to
proclaim significance in a true statistical sense. We should certainly be wary
of seeking to unequivocally say which works better or even forming a tem-
plate for interested educators to follow in these pioneers’ footsteps. So much
is dependent on the energy and enthusiasm of the instructor that these ex-
amples may not be replicable without the specific personality and/or circum-
stance of the person who dreamed up the example. In t hese early stages, with
beta versions and low-tech implementations, the instructor’s passion for
what he or she is doing (with acknowledgement of the homogeneity of the
sample set of instructors) is crucial for getting students on board. Any in-
structor who tries to implement a system or model of a gamified course in a
mode that he or she does not feel passionate about is not likely to succeed. My
candid and simple advice to instructors interested in gamifying a course should
probably be to just go with whichever version/chapter spoke most clearly to
you and made you think, “Wow, that’s cool!” If you are not a Dungeons & Drag-
ons fan or a former player, as I’m not, then a Dungeons and Discourse (or a
Dungeons and Anything) course is likely not for you. If you like hunting and
puzzles, then you could probably carry off an Easter egg–based model.
Having said that, and having stressed that t here are clear differences be-
tween the models, if we are able to strip away some of the window dressing to
get to fundamental principles, then I believe that we w ill start to see similar
traits and underlying concepts. When we start to look for commonalities,
rather than differences, we can then contemplate moving to a position of re-
Assessing Gamification 151
Figure 19. Gamifying math study—subject: author’s (second) d

aughter.
view against some form of consistent criteria. Starting from the point of the
instructors’ motivation behind the builds, why they chose to pursue this work,
we see obvious common ground. The goal of improving student engagement
and boosting low completion rates is a strikingly resonant and consistent aim
of all five practitioners.
To facilitate cross-case comparison and provide valuable feedback on gam-
ification choices and effects, we r eally need to be able to apply some sort of a
framework or a structured rubric to review and compare the example courses.
The goal of this chapter, then, is to provide a form of cross-case analysis, a
means of getting beyond “this is cool” or “I d
on’t like that idea” to something
more scientific. I would like to see if we can discern why t hese courses, to the
extent that they do, succeed in producing encouraging results by increasing
student engagement and, in a variety of ways, enhancing student outcomes.
With some means of better breaking down and analyzing what is happening
in the five cases, we should be able to develop a means of assessing possible
future courses’ plans and ideas, determining possible enhancements, and
suggesting foci for practice and f uture research.
152 Game On!
Before we get to the analysis, let’s review exactly how gamification is in-
corporated into t hese courses. The findings from the five examples we have
suggest the need to consider three underlying elements:
What technological skill set is needed to implement a gamified course?

Who can or is doing this kind of incorporation?
Why are they doing it in this way?
The individual cases illustrate how specific and distinct elements can be
used to deliver gamification in a variety of flavors. Let’s look at these three
criteria in order.
What Technological Skill Set Is Required?
In the examples, gamification runs the gamut from specifically defined and
discrete elements, leaderboards, and Easter eggs to faculty behaviors (providing
timely feedback, recognizing effort) and conceptual, comprehensive nar-
rated scenarios. These scenarios, of course, include the student as a hero (Uni-
versity of New Hampshire, UNH) and as an explorer across mysterious lands
(Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts, MCLA). The practitioners/pioneers
have implemented gamification elements through a can-do blend of basic
programming skills, good intentions, and individual effort. In the University
of South Florida (USF) and MCLA cases, faculty practitioners who had branched
out to academic technology-support positions utilized basic HTML and LMS
features. In the UNH case, the visionary drive of Neil Niman carried a very
enthusiastic, but inexperienced, team of developers with limited technical
skills. Only the University of Waterloo (UW) course benefitted from external
technical team support for what was still quite a basic technical build. The
tech team at UW was responsible for some build-out of scenarios hosted in
the LMS and the main element build-out of a leaderboard that was able to
actually work based on scenario grading, providing an anonymous view of
each student’s position in the class with anonymized peers above and below.
This build, arguably the most complex element of all the course builds, was
still a relatively small investment and significantly less than that spent on a
typical technical implementation.
Most instructors and students stressed that their experiences would have
been enhanced with richer implementations and greater functionality, yet
they remained supportive. As the cases illustrate, initial wireframe or pen-
cil and paper versions can prove concept and provide feedback. Given the
amount of revisions and tweaks that practitioners made between course runs,
I would not advise investing in a costly build-out too soon only to have to
deconstruct and start again. However, to support maturing plans to move
beyond the pencil and paper versions, and to scale for impact across a wider
student body, institutions w ill need to provide significant technical support
and indirect funding in the form of teaching assistants or course releases to
allow faculty developers the time and space to develop their ideas.
Who Is Incorporating Gamification?
The development of each of the courses in t hese cases was driven by the proj
ect lead. In my sample, all five project leads w
ere male and all around their
early to mid-forties. This demographic (the first generation exposed to large-
scale arcade video games—remember Space Invaders in 1978 and PacMan in
1980) is now reaching positions in academia, and in society at large, where
they are established enough to experiment with concepts they find engaging.
The maturation of this first video or arcade game generation could be one
reason why we are now starting to see serious experimentation with gamifi-
cation that earlier (or older) educators might not have felt was appropriate in
a formal academic or corporate setting. Clearly this is not a gender or age-
specific set of principles. In workshops that I have delivered on the subject of
gamification between 2014 and 2016, the participants are predominantly fe-
male (in classes of 25, typically 21–22 are female) and are a mix of back-
grounds and ethnicities. I would expect that hero-centered narratives may be
more to male tastes, but the majority of the principles of the cases in this
work seem to be demographic agnostic with the possible caveat, mentioned
earlier, that midcareer educators seem to be in a place where they have the
confidence to try this kind of experiment.
Why Are They Gamifying Courses in This Way?
The relative paucity of communication between each instructor and their

institutional leaders may be related to the personality of the project leads and
their desire to retain a degree of autonomy. All of them seemed somewhat
wedded to being on the periphery of mainstream academe. Adding another
level of intrigue might be the evolution of the term gamification itself. During
my interviews and materials review it became apparent that t here is already a
double-edged sword element with regard to both the term and the concept of
gamification. The term is current and dynamic, and it gains attention quickly.
154 Game On!
Yet gamification is frequently dismissed as a fad, like the next massive open
online course (MOOC). This mixed perspective seemingly accentuated the
practitioners’ desire to stay off the radar, at least until their ideas w
ere out
and tested. Even when higher-level institutional acceptance was apparently
likely (recalling USF’s promotional tweeting of the course), so is/was the
scorn of those jaded by a wave of recent “next big thing” proclamations. Hav-
ing been involved in the hype around multiuser synchronous communication
and virtual worlds (Second Life was once “the future”) and, most recently,
MOOCs, it may well be prudent of practitioners to initially duck the spotlight
and make their errors and tweaks in the shadows. Perhaps once their gami-
fied concept is refined and once their student outcome data has started to
prove the efficacy of their work, then they w
ill be willing to emerge from the
shadows. This subterfuge of taking on the world in a private b
attle (initially)
could also just be resonant with the gaming mindset. Remember that some
of these people were interplanetary warlords in their youth. They need a
challenge or perhaps even a crusade—the edgier the better.
The only downside of these lone-wolf innovators, as Gerol Petruzella of
MCLA notes, is that their experiments tend to remain isolated and unlikely
to impact education more broadly—even at their own institutions. Breaking
out of this isolation status is the next challenge if widespread dissemination
is the goal. In chapter 9 we w
ill look at the only one of the five cases that does
seem to have shed itself of its off-the-radar status and has prompted a much
wider institutional adoption of gamification principles. Be thinking, dear
reader, about which case you believe is most likely to really catch on, or to
catch fire, from the ones you have read (or skimmed) thus far.
Though the five cases are all distinct in the way that they have been gami-
fied, a valuable line of thought is whether we can assess the degree of gamifica-
tion as a means of incrementally encouraging more intentional and widespread
implementation at an institution. It is important to clarify that it is not par-
ticularly helpful to try to quantify gamification inputs or efforts and cer-
tainly not to simply rate them as successes or failures. However, the obvious
research questions and pathways to widespread adoption w
ill raise the ques-
tion of variable correlation between the degree of gamification and, as best
we have them, standardized or consistent measures of student engagement
and learning outcomes. Any kind of correlation or degree of gamification and
student engagement, particularly with larger datasets, could drive wider in-
stitutional acceptance—a proposal supported by the practitioners. The fact
that gamification has not coalesced into a fixed set of rules may, in fact, be ben-
eficial in that it negates the need to describe a one-size-fits-all package to insti-
tutions. In terms of institutional support, the University of Waterloo appears
unique given its location (Canada’s high-tech b
elt), its administration’s sense of
entrepreneurialism, and its faculty’s technical experimentation. Nonetheless,
their vice provost asserted that she would need more concrete, quantified data
on the positive effects of gamification on student outcomes before she would be
comfortable advocating for sustained institutional endorsement.
It is unlikely that any of the formats or instructor strategies in the selected
courses w
ill be universally successful for all students. Where competition
works for some, collaboration or cooperation w ill work better for others. Even
in the small sample in this study, gamification, or certainly elements of gam-
ification, appear to show enough potential to merit further research. My con-
clusion separates MOOCs from other online courses, as I believe MOOCs
have a quite different potential as vehicles for gamification.
MOOCs
MOOCs are still, as of 2016, a relatively new format with audiences and de-
mographics atypical for tertiary education. Under the heading “MOOCs Are
Not Reaching the Disadvantaged,” a 2013 E. J. Emanuel study drawing from
over 34,000 MOOC (Coursera) participants in 32 courses found that 83% of
the surveyed students already had a two-or four-year postsecondary degree.
Although the survey response rates w
ere quite low, it is likely that MOOCs do
not tend to enroll the demographic that most institutions are trying to reach
through online program expansion. As Emanuel concluded, “Far from real-
izing the high ideals of their advocates, MOOCs seem to be reinforcing the
advantages of the ‘haves’ rather than educating the ‘have-nots.’ ”
While MOOC participants are demonstrating through their enrollment
an inherent interest in the subject of the course, they do not generally need
or pay for credits. It would seem likely, as the instructor of the fairy tale MOOC
asserts, that a lightly gamified MOOC course with limited instructor connec-
tivity would not have a huge influence on engagement or completion. As with
most MOOC data gathered so far (Emanuel 2013; Perna et al. 2013), Kevin Yee’s
USF course is typical in that it had slightly elevated, but still extremely low,
course-completion rates.
Gamification may promote engagement, but given that only 5% of partici-
pants complete MOOCs, they clearly need more work on their basic format
156 Game On!
and goals. Fundamental MOOC challenges such as instructor responsiveness

and the lack of student buy-in need to be addressed before a sustained gami-
fication project is going to be of value. Elements of gamification may well
increase completion rates in MOOCs; Yee’s course had a completion rate
slightly above average. In terms of format, if the MOOCs w
ere to target smaller
numbers of participants engaged enough to cooperate and compete, then gam-
ification might have more of an effect. The resultant product could be re-
branded as a “Modest [sized] [not so] Open Online Course.”
More Typical Online Courses
The UNH and MCLA courses, while covering different subjects, are both tar-
geted at naïve, inexperienced students—that is, students potentially lacking
confidence and perhaps motivation around the subject m
atter. The instruc-
tors and developers of both courses suggest that gamification might have the
most benefit for entry or introductory-level courses. Petruzella suggests that
gamification, or a gamified course, may be a way of transitioning students
from an environment of “staid high school chalk-and-talk” to one where par-
ticipation, critical thinking, and creativity are encouraged. The enhanced
participation relayed clearly by his students and their self-declared enthusi-
asm for the subject and the format certainly seem to bear out that view.
The UNH students involved in the development team felt that adding
gamification to a core economics course particularly would help students
who w
ere somewhat math-phobic but w
ere required to take math or math-
based courses (microeconomics by way of example). The mnemonic value of
the personal narrative, in terms of providing memorable metaphor and help-
ing students retain key concepts, suggests that low-or entry-level students
whose intrinsic motivation for their subject matter has not yet flourished in-
deed might benefit most from this format.
Somewhat contradicting the suggestion that fragile learners may be those
best supported by gamification was UW’s Greg Andres’s assertion that his
real-world-connected scenario games might appeal more to mature students.
Andres’s perspective certainly underscores the value of authenticity in as-
signments or scenarios but does not necessarily speak to the value of the
gamified elements in his course or a gamified course per se. The format of the
pass/fail co-op class at UW as a means of supporting and keeping students
connected to the institution during a remote work experience is unusual, and
it is genuinely hard to extrapolate more widely applicable conclusions. If An-
dres is correct, then there may be a continued or extended role for this kind of
approach within the broader area of workforce retraining and serving the learn-
ing needs of adult working students. However, the class-wide student engage-
ment and completion of nonessential content and activities in his model was
encouraging and suggests possible wider efficacy than he himself suggested.
Applying Frameworks: Cross-Case Analysis
As the analyses of the examples in earlier chapters indicates, gamification

or gameful design is not a black/white or on/off feature. In order to better
review the effectiveness of principles of gamification in developed sample
courses, two antecedents in the field are worth revisiting. The works of Kapp
(2012) and Csikszentmihalyi (1975) include their frameworks to evaluate
gamification (Kapp) and the likelihood of an experience engendering flow
(Csikszentmihalyi). Combined they provide a means of evaluating degree of
gamification or the potential to engender intrinsic motivation (a hugely valu-
able metric if it can be used with consistency).
The Kapp Framework
In his 2012 text The Gamification of Learning and Instruction, Karl Kapp de-
scribes constituent parts of gamified courses under the heading, “It’s in the
Game: Understanding Game Elements.” His work has great applicability to
this study, as he breaks down gamified courses into constituent elements
with a view to prompting discussion about the degree, nature, and effect of
gamification. It was apparent through interviews and reviews of course mate-
rials that the various faculty, developers, and practitioners had directly or
indirectly incorporated many of the elements described by Kapp. Instructor
preference seemed to drive most design/gamification decisions, although the
different formats of courses (MOOC, co-op support, for-credit) and the differ-
ing demographic characteristics of their targeted students also may have
influenced design choices. I found it interesting to speculate which course
format would score most highly when reviewed against Kapp’s criteria. I as-
sessed the courses quantitatively against the Kapp framework by scoring the
extent to which each course addresses his key tenets on a scale from zero to
two (table 1). A concept that is not addressed in any way scores a zero, one that
is touched upon perhaps only scantly receives a one, and an element that is
clearly emphasized and intentionally included as an integral part of the course
by the project lead is marked as two.
158 Game On!
Table 1. Analysis of the five gamified courses, based on the Kapp (2012) criteria for
assessing gamification
UW Ethical MCLA Penn State
USF Fairy Tale UNH Decision Dungeons Threat of
MOOC EconJourney Making and Discourse Terrorism
Abstraction of 1 2 1 2 0
concepts and reality
Goals 2 2 1 2 2
Rules 0 1 1 2 2
Conflict, competition, 2 1 2 2 2
cooperation
Time 0 1 0 1 1
Reward structures 1 1 2 2 2
Feedback 1 2 2 1 2
Levels 1 2 1 2 2
Storytelling 1 2 1 2 2
Curve of interest 1 2 1 1 2
Aesthetics 2 1 1 2 1
Replay or do-over 1 2 1 1 2
Totals 13 19 14 20 20
Note: USF = University of South Florida, UNH = University of New Hampshire, UW = University of
Waterloo, MCLA = Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts.
Applying the Kapp Analysis
Yee’s USF course does a reasonable job across a number of Kapp criteria. The
Easter egg focus scores well on elements like competition and reward. His
course’s clear goals (finding eggs through accessing content) and the compe-
tition this engendered, even though collaboration and conflict w
ere not em-
phasized, also rate highly. The instructor’s time constraints, including the
fact that he had to forgo some of the other elements that he had planned, do
negatively affect the course’s overall score. If he had not dropped his plans
for course badges and his analogy for team progress, his course would have
scored higher in curve of interest, storytelling, feedback, and reward categories.
For a solo effort undertaken on top of other duties and responsibilities, Yee’s
work shows g
reat promise. However, in the absence of extensive automation
and technical build, it is again apparent that the delivery of a highly gamified
course—as defined by the Kapp criteria—requires major instructor commitment
and/or more extensive institutional support, perhaps via supplemental facilita-
tors or teaching assistants. While this requirement of commitment, especially
in low-tech or pilot gamified courses, is a possible barrier to entry and certainly
needs to be noted, instructor enthusiasm and advocacy in all examples brought
encouraging results. Yee’s study was clearly an example of this, with the possible
extra caveat that some of the challenges to his connectivity were consequences
of his decision to run the course as a MOOC. The enrollment numbers, though
not massive, were certainly large enough to make course management, even
with his ideas of grouped participants, rewards, and feedback, near impossible.
If he were to gamify a fixed-enrollment course, with a more typical enrollment
of 20 to 25 students, he doubtless would be able to realize his ideas more fully,
and his course likely would score higher.
Niman’s UNH course scores higher in a number of areas that Yee did not
even attempt in his USF course. The project scores maximum points in catego-
ries such as abstraction of concepts and reality, storytelling, and curve of inter-
est. Of all the cases examined in this book, Niman’s course made the most
concerted attempt to weave gamification intrinsically into course content.
His personal lack of conviction for what he called “simple rewards systems” or
“feedback structures” explained his focus on tying progress in the course to
the students’ personal stories. While he had challenges in early iterations of his
course, obligating multiple revisions and tweaks to his strategies, his high score
on the scale indicates, by Kapp’s criteria, an extremely gamified course.
The second takeaway from the cross-case analysis is that weaving gamifi-
cation themes and elements throughout a course and/or wedding core con-
tent to a creative story perhaps provides a disproportionate boost on the Kapp
scale. In presenting on this topic, my finding is that p
eople think of narrative
development and creative storytelling as the hardest element to conceptualize.
My counsel has typically been that very effective, intrinsically motivating
courses can be developed that ignore the elements that aspirant developers
finding daunting. Again, as the cases show, not all boxes need to be checked
to produce a good experiment. Acceptance of an imperfect test model is a
condition of all the studied practitioners, reflecting their gameful/techie na-
ture. “Launch then tweak” is their mantra.
Andres’s Ethical Decision Making course returns mixed results when mapped
to the Kapp framework. This finding was not totally unexpected given the
160 Game On!
way that the games w

ere isolated from other elements of the course. The
content-related ethical games provided instant feedback, a sense of reward
(accentuated by the leaderboard), and a level of competition. However, of the
five cases, Andres’s game elements are the most extrinsic and the least intrin-
sically woven into the fabric of the course. They serve more as self-checks or
enhanced multiple-choice quizzes. The activities absolutely did serve a pur-
pose as a form of relief from traditional course fare (e.g., text and discussion
boards). Students, particularly those who consumed them all in one sitting,
certainly found them engaging, but the effects are likely finite and only felt
while engaged in the games rather than in the course as a w
hole.
Petruzella’s MCLA Dungeons and Discourse course (like the UNH Econ-
Journey) scores well across multiple categories by virtue of the embedded
game reward mechanisms, a sense of levels (culminating in boss levels), at-
tempts at an aesthetic theme, and notions of conflict, cooperation, and com-
petition. The higher scores on the Kapp criteria would seem to confirm that
deeper integration of game elements with more course elements tied directly to
games or game principles are reflective of a more gamified course. His course
only skips elements of time and feedback, again consequences of his limited
availability given other duties and a low-tech build with minimal automated
feedback and little support for scale.
Finally, Aebli’s terrorism course jointly holds top scores across the Kapp
matrix. His competitive nature, his interest in the comprehensive Disney expe-
rience, and his affinity for games of all stripes, including basic board games,
positions him and his work in an exciting place. The more homogenous class
structure of his discipline at his institute facilitates his ability to implement a
very game-like environment with quite rigid rules and competitive formats.
Again, in quite a low-to mid-tech build, he drives the process through his
energy and through a lot of behind the scenes work in preparing materials, up-
dating scenarios and tracking progress. His score is penalized, perhaps unfairly,
by the lack of abstraction of concepts in a gameful narrative. It is more likely a
weakness of the matrix than of Aebli’s work that his authenticity and realism
are not fully acknowledged as a driver of student motivation. By all accounts,
including student feedback and grades, his model was extremely effective.
In conclusion, while the matrix offers a useful framework for cross-case com-
parison, the application of this framework is also somewhat limited. In the long
term and with greater numbers among the practitioner student pools, we should
be looking to directly correlate evaluative scores with student engagement,
course completion, or longer-term persistence. Having said that, even this some-
what rudimentary assessment is valuable for practitioner discussion around
aspects of their courses that are e ither undeveloped or worthy of enhancement.
Research comparisons should compare gamified versus not-gamified (in any
way) courses to see if any difference in student engagement and other student
outcomes is detected. If one w
ere able to confirm a relationship between Kapp
scores and student engagement, then these early models could be made more
effective and ultimately more widely disseminated and a
dopted.
Csikszentmihalyi’s Flow Framework
As a second means of evaluating the likelihood of efficacy in the practitioner

models, I look to the work of Csikszentmihalyi who, in 1975, described eight
components as critical in engendering flow in any environment, be it aca-
demic, sporting, or social. As a form of insurance, and in an attempt to pro-
vide more of a psychological review of what was happening in the cases, I
compared the individual cases against eight components of a typical Csik-
szentmihalyi flow analysis. My hope was that this supplemental analysis
might help assess the relative worth of implementing gamification elements
in light of their propensity to engender a state of flow in those accessing the
courses. Facilitating flow states could be critical for encouraging students to
engage with academic content in a similar way as they do with game content.
When flow has been achieved, the only thing the participant is thinking
about is the activity (concern for self disappears), and the participant experi-
ences a notable loss of sense of time (hours feel like minutes). Translated to an
academic course, the nature or amount of flow might be a key determinant
for student engagement. The positive correlation between sense of flow and
engagement with materials is more than likely. This is of particular importance
given that the correlation between engagement and student success, defined
as course completion including passing any exams, has been demonstrated
in many studies including, significantly, by the US Department of Education in
2010. Whereas Kapp’s framework assesses “how gamified” the course is, the
Csikszentmihalyi framework may show “how effective a game is” or how the
specific gamified elements add up.
Applying Flow Analysis
The goal of this review was to assess w

hether any degree of flow is likely as
a direct result of an instructor’s efforts at gamification. As with the Kapp
162 Game On!
Table 2. Analysis of the five gamified courses, based on the Csikszentmihalyi (1975) criteria
for assessing flow
UW Ethical MCLA Penn State
USF Fairy Tale UNH Decision Dungeons Threat of
MOOC EconJourney Making and Discourse Terrorism
Achievable 2 2 2 1 1
Requiring concentration 2 2 2 2 2
(Tasks have) clear goals 2 1 2 2 2
Immediate and continual 0 1 2 1 2

feedback
Effortless involvement 2 1 1 1 2
Control over actions 1 1 2 1 2
Totals 9 8 11 8 11
Note: USF = University of South Florida, UNH = University of New Hampshire, UW = University of
Waterloo, MCLA = Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts.
analysis, I reviewed each course, using a zero-to-two-point scale indicating

lack of presence (zero), nominal presence (one), and strong focus/emphasis
(two). The results are presented in t able 2.
Selected student testimonials (those who “got it”) in the USF MOOC indi-
cate that, for some, participation in the gamified elements (the Easter egg hunts)
was associated with time passing quickly. T
hose individuals spent a g
reat deal
of time in the thrall of the class, in a sense, engaging with course materials
and, in another sense, simply looking for eggs. In an open or voluntary par-
ticipation MOOC environment, the Csikszentmihalyi concept of class rules
was always going to be difficult to enforce, while the large numbers, even in
this midsized MOOC, meant that immediate and/or continual feedback was
beyond the instructor’s capacity. For Yee’s course, these challenges of scale
and lack of time or resources to implement automated feedback mechanisms
for support translate to a low score on a number of the Csikszentmihalyi ele
ments, as they did on the Kapp scores. Student survey feedback indicates that
for the engaged participants, time flowed in the hunts that had clear, achiev-
able goals requiring concentration, so the course scored well in the first few
categories. It would be in
ter
est
ing to test
whether a more fully gamified
MOOC with participants agreeing to rules for participation (akin to an honor
code) and with systems in place to provide instant, corrective feedback might
further ameliorate persistent MOOC retention issues.
The UNH EconJourney model focuses the learning on a game environ-

ment. Niman’s deconstruction of his course and his conscious rebuild around
key elements of the hero’s journey was both complex and ambitious. Apply-
ing the Csikszentmihalyi analysis, the course scores lower than others in
terms of clarity of goals, immediacy of feedback, and control—all of which
could impede students getting to flow. Niman’s development team consisted
exclusively of highly motivated “overachievers,” who perhaps lacked perspec-
tive on clarity and high-support needs. Elements that speak to academically
high-achieving students may not resonate with fragile learners. As Niman
relayed in follow-up conversations, initial (beta) launches allowed him to
hone the product. In versions 2.0 and then 3.0 he experimented with varia-
tion of guidance and prescriptiveness of course parameters. His course devel-
opment and revision cycle best illustrated the need to get just right the level
of challenge and the support structures when trying to get participants close
to flow. If students, including t hose challenged and lacking confidence when
facing economic concepts, buy into the spirit of the game, develop effective
personal narratives, and enjoy the comparisons (e.g., sharing and voting up
or down their classmates’ versions) then the course is well structured to get
them to flow. In his initial format, the one reviewed for this study, it was not
clear that students were envisioning clear goals or feeling any sense of con-
trol over their actions. In later versions, when Niman and the UNH team
were able to get more students beyond the early, conceptual stages of the
course and engage them in the development of a dynamic, personalized nar-
rative, the course would score higher on the elements in this framework.
In Andres’s Ethical Decision Making course at UW, although the games
provide rewards they are distinct from the core coursework. When students
were immersed in the games, time was clearly deemphasized, as illustrated by
the students who ran through all of the games in quick time to top the lead-
erboard. I gave the course a high Csikszentmihalyi score for its game time
rather than engagement with the majority of the other course content. The
lack of integration of gamification deeper into the course materials suggests
that the course could have lower student engagement in the substantial non-
gamified sections. The games accounted for 18% of the course grade, but that
score was attained for attempting the game in any way. Students actually
could complete the course and gain a passing grade e ither by ignoring or per-
functorily attempting the games. Andres’s course is one of the least gamified
per the Kapp framework, but the games that are implemented do induce
164 Game On!
high-level Csikszentmihalyi flow. The lesson would seem to be that with bet-
ter integration of the game elements and extension of more sustained feed-
back throughout the course, the approach would have g
reat potential as a
template for a simple non–journey/narrative model. The value of discrete
Q&A, multiple-choice, or knowledge-checking “games” should not be dis-
missed, as certainly they engendered interest among what otherw ise could
be a passive, perfunctory group.
Petruzella’s Dungeons and Discourse implementation at MCLA in some
ways received the harshest end-user feedback from experienced gamer stu-
dents, but it was the only course held to t hose very high (gamer) standards.
According to Kapp’s criteria, Petruzella’s MCLA course is the most gamified
course. The Csikszentmihalyi analysis captures the limitations of his format
in that it is wedded to nonautomated classroom sessions where the students
barter for gold. Adoption of an interactive interface, where students would be
able to control their own actions and receive immediate and continual feed-
back, would increase the flow score substantially. His student feedback was very
specific in this respect, as it identified that the ability to track (or control) their
prog ress across dynamic landscapes representing the various realms would
have been a valuable and appreciated enhancement.
Aebli’s Penn State Threat of Terrorism and Crime course dropped Csikszent-
mihalyi points only in the achievable category. In his first few iterations, no
students scored maximum points by uncovering the full plot details. Subse-
quently, as he reported in his catch-up call, one class of overachiever students
did solve the w
hole plot. It would seem that the authenticity and immediacy
of his materials engage students to strive for what might even have seemed
totally unachievable. He effectively used the tools available to him to pro-
vide feedback and to clarify rules and goals. His case may have been a little
skewed in that he was, to lapse into the vernacular, pitching geeky guy stuff
to geeky guys. However, he deserves praise above and beyond that possible
caveat given his efforts to engage more gender balance in his class and even
in the decision to work in a subject area that is politically sensitive and to
encourage moving beyond knee-jerk journalism to real-world global per-
spective by fostering critical thinking and thoughtful consumption of wider
media messaging. T
hese outcomes, perhaps even beyond his more tradi-
tional curricular elements, prove a serious motivator, as students sense they
are achieving more than checking a box and moving on with accumulated
credits.
Comparison Results from the Cross-Case Analysis
Overall, the cross-case reviews suggest that the UNH, MCLA, and Penn State
courses are the most gamified in terms of the criteria outlined by Kapp. The
Csikszentmihalyi analysis adds flavor, but in most cases, technical simplicity
places barriers that hamper flow state. The high-scoring UW course is in-
flated by the emphasis on the game scenarios, which are only a small part of
the course. If weighted across the whole course, the UW figure likely would
be closer to the otherw ise quite consistent scores for the other courses. The
likelihood of gamified courses getting to Csikszentmihalyi’s flow is most im-
pacted by the lack of immediate and continual feedback in these models.
Without more technical support and a build that would accommodate greater
automation, these courses are not g
oing to achieve maximal flow. Aebli’s ter-
rorism course comes closest given that the feedback systems are augmented
by well-structured peer support and encouragement). He also has the clearest
and easiest to pick up and play goal (solve a plot) and the clearest rules (dead-
lines, points, and penalties).
The Kapp analysis would seem to suggest that a more substantial alignment
of actual coursework and core content with game elements, particularly around
a central narrative, is most likely to positively affect gamification and likely stu-
dent engagement. The USF and UW courses have added some game elements
(leaderboards, Easter eggs, game scenarios), but both stopped short of an inte-
grated and gamified course in these initial, experimental versions. An amal-
gamated model featuring MCLA and UNH-
like centrality of narrative with
added self-checks and UW-like distinct games would, applying the Kapp crite-
ria, be the most likely to approximate the type of engagement that could lead to
enhanced student outcomes. From Csikszentmihalyi we take the value of sim-
plicity, clear rules, clear target, challenge, and the value of competition and a
chase. Aebli’s terrorism case illustrates the value of realism and authenticity as
an incentive, which is both at odds and in line with Kapp’s narrative need.
Part of the excitement, and also part of the confusion, around gamifica-
tion comes from the fact that it is a general banner term that can be inter-
preted by practitioners as they see fit. Looking at this with a glass-half-full
perspective, it is also worth noting that students are generally tolerant of any
and all efforts to incorporate even rudimentary elements beyond a staid read-
post-respond format. Administrators, when consulted, are tentatively sup-
portive, and most recognize that student demographics and expectations are
166 Game On!
changing. On the downside, t here is limited collaboration between academic

practitioners and potential supporters, funders, or entrepreneurs. Within the
administrative side of academia, there is not yet motivation to propagate
principles or get them more widely disseminated. Significantly enhanced stu-
dent learning outcomes, if shown to correlate to the kind of increased stu-
dent engagement referred to in this study, may well be the catalyst to wider
adoption. Coordinated support in the shape of academic buy-in from peers
and academic leaders is necessary for these solo efforts to gain traction. Insti-
tutional embrace, touting of enhanced student outcomes, and resource allo-
cation in the form of technical support and investment are essential if the
field is to get beyond the auspices of enthusiastic but isolated instructors.
The takeaways from the case studies and cross-analyses are instructive.
The time constraints and small numbers involved in this study meant that
practitioners are not yet g
oing beyond possibilities and low-level correla-
tions. Nonetheless, t hese possibilities and tentative conclusions do allow for
some suggestions and recommendations. The evolution of a consistent, sin-
gle framework that could be used to assess a wider swath of gamified courses
would make conclusions more robust. Although the Kapp analysis was more
immediately applicable to the cases in this study, aspects of flow, per Csik-
szentmihalyi, incorporated into a meta-framework could produce a solid
means of evaluating greater investment in gamified models. In presentations
and review of this work with academic faculty, the need to measure against
criteria that academics can relate to become apparent. In 2015, looking to
develop the motivation aspect and reflecting on the impacts reported on stu-
dents from at-risk demographics, my team and I at Northeastern University
pulled the matrix elements into a single rubric and used this to assess vendor
adaptive learning products. On the back of that work, we w
ere awarded sig-
nificant federal funding for a project designed to increase intrinsic motiva-
tion of underrepresented minorities in science, technology, engineering, and
math fields. Table 3 presents our results.
Comparison testing of gamified versus nongamified courses at scale, look-
ing at pre-and post-tests (before and a
fter gamification), w
ill confirm w
hether
gamification treatments are having a quantifiable, tangible effect. Correlation
between the degree of gamification (measured by a tool like the one above)
against student connectivity, frequency of logins, or other activity within the
LMS would support engagement theories. The challenge of developing a tool
assessing “degree of gamification” is that it is, by nature, subjective. This is
Table 3. The S
IMPLE matrix
Arguably / Established / A signature
Absent could be functional element
(0 pts.) (1 pt.) (2 pts.) (3 pts.)
Rules clear and effective
Effortless involvement—pick up
and play (think iPod)
Appropriate level of challenge

(white-water rafting)
CCCP: conflict, cooperation, and

competition are all possible
Clear goals with inherent, clear

reward structures
Immediate and continual

feedback from instructor, system,
and/or peers
Leveling up or at least a clear

sense of progress
Narrative / curve of interest—can
be “real world” based
Stunning aesthetics
Fear of failure reduced (mindsets)
Student control over actions (they

get choices at e
very step)
Note: SIMPLE = student intrinsic motivation for persistence in learning environments
(Bell 2014).
preferable, however, to the on/off prior suggestion that a course is gamified or

it isn’t. This kind of scoring system should at least provoke discussion and al-
low practitioners to consider elements that they are or are not addressing. My
hope is that this w
ill encourage practitioners to experiment more methodi-
cally, seeking to discern whether affordable and scalable gamification might be
applied to online courses given potential implications for student engagement.
Implementation and evolution of this kind of gamification matrix, building on
the work of the likes of Kapp and Csikszentmihalyi, with development and
delivery overheads clearly stated and likely outcomes captured, would facilitate
better decision making and support the kinds of pioneers explored in this text.
CHAPTER NINE
Catching Fire
T H E M O D E L T H AT B U R N E D B R I G H T E S T
So, dear reader, this is the penultimate section of the text before it all gets
wrapped up with a ribbon and we wait for the movie version. Having made it
this far, I wonder w
hether you are ready for a bit of sleuthery. As a reward for
carefully reading the cases, or even if you gamed the system by skimming
them, I present to you now a game puzzle in this book on gameful design, an
Easter egg of an activity if you like.
My questions for you, based on your (careful) reading of the cases:
Which blend of tactics, politics, and personalities among the projects and
practitioners you have just closely studied do you feel had the best
chance of setting something serious in motion on their campus?
Who was most likely to get traction?
Whose germ of an idea is on the way to becoming massive?
When I first met the practitioners in 2013, they had similar troves of en-
thusiasm, roughly comparable degrees of institutional support, similar/mini-
mal funding, and a degree of isolation or “off-the-radar-ness” that they (sort
of) relished. In chapter 8, I presented two frameworks and a matrix as means
of evaluating three key elements: the degree of gamification, flow, and the
cumulative effect of overlapping intrinsic motivators. While the matrix is
intended to broker discussion rather than to prove one model’s efficacy over
another, none of them, e ither in isolation or combination, can fully predict
the likelihood that a project really gets traction and succeeds in inspiring a
wider audience, even at the project lead’s own institution. Mapping each case
to the student intrinsic motivation for persistence in learning environments
(SIMPLE) matrix (table 4) provides further insight.
Results
Kevin Yee’s Fairy Tale MOOC: 14 points
Neil Niman’s EconJourney: 19 points
Catching Fire 169
Table 4. The comparison study t able

(0 pts.) (1 pt.) (2 pts.) (3 pts.)
Rules clear and effective SF / NH W/M P
Effortless involvement—pick up NH / M W/P SF

Appropriate level of challenge SF / W / P NH / M

CCCP: conflict, cooperation, SF W NH / M / P

and competition are all possible
Clear goals with inherent, clear W NH / M SF / P

reward structures
Immediate and continual SF NH / W / M P

feedback from instructor, system
and/or peers
Leveling up or at least a clear SF / W NH / M P

sense of progress
Narrative / curve of interest—can SF NH / W / M P
Stunning aesthetics SF / NH /
W /M / P
Fear of failure reduced (mindsets) W SF / NH / P M
Student control over actions SF W NH / M / P

(they get choices at every step)
Note: SF = University of South Florida Fairy Tale MOOC, NH = University of New Hampshire
EconJourney, W = University of Waterloo Ethical Decision Making, M = Massachusetts
College of Liberal Arts Dungeons and Discourse, P = Penn State Threat of Terrorism.
Greg Andres’s Ethical Decision Making: 15 points

Gerol Petruzella’s Dungeons and Discourse: 21 points
Fred Aebli’s Threat of Crime and Terrorism: 25 points
It strikes me that this does better reflect the efficacy of the cases. The meld
of Kapp and Csikszentmihalyi elements produces a better balance of ele
ments, and I think that the ratings do capture the strengths and weaknesses
of the models. Yee absolutely acknowledged that he struggled to keep up with
the feedback and rewards of the system. Andres’s project featured engaging
170 Game On!
games, but they w

ere a little separate from the core of the class. Petruzella
and Aebli r eally worked on the narrative, rewards, and sense of progression,
while Niman’s first instance of the course (when we assessed it) was challeng-
ing and somewhat confusing for the students, who found it hard to think
creatively to create their own narrative.
Though I’m confident that we can get closer to an effective assessment tool,
r unning formats against actual retention in massive numbers would be the
goal going forward. No SIMPLE matrix score w ill guarantee institutional up-
take and proliferation. It w ill likely take years of quantified data and concrete
correlations between inputs and outputs before that level of certitude sets in.
In the absence of that concrete support, my question becomes, “What sets of
circumstances or what practitioner behavior that we have seen in the cases
make wider uptake possible? Or feasible? Or even likely?” To further investi-
gate that question, we can return to the cases, reflect on the practitioner com-
mentaries, and see w
hether the work of Niman, Petruzella, Yee, Andres, and
Aebli did have longer-term or wider ramifications. If we are to go with the
assertion that proliferation of this kind of model is worthwhile and of poten-
tial benefit to a wide community of users, then it is of value to ask, and where
evidence exists to review, what makes that happen?
As I noted in the interview updates to each chapter, one or two of the
models definitely had (or have) a shelf life. Subsequent iterations have been
supported and even successfully received without r eally sparking wider insti-
tutional propagation. While Yee’s MOOC has stayed mostly in its packaging, he
has disseminated elements of his learning to other instructors at his insti-
tution, who look to him for support on technical and pedagogical issues.
Petruzella’s Dungeons and Discourse was certainly given an audience at
the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts, and his work has provoked help-
ful discussion at his institution around equity, instructors’ inherent uninten-
tional bias, and support for first-generation and low socioeconomic status
students. Andres, professor of the year winner and all-round great guy at Wa-
terloo, inspired a lot of conversation and review of teaching practice at his
institution. Aebli at Penn State engaged his provost and others in significant
dialog around media bias and critical thinking. Pushing him, by a nose, into
nominal runner-up in the “did the project grow wings (or legs)?” category,
Aebli has been asked to lead orientations at Penn State, where he has pushed
students to embark on their studies with grit and determination while stress-
ing that they should be using their time in higher education to evolve as
Catching Fire 171
collegial, critical, contributing members of society. His language and persona

help, as do his general worldview and ethos, but I suspect that his institution
feels comfortable encouraging him to take on this kind of critical role a
fter
witnessing his students’ rapt engagement with his (gameful) teaching. My
admiration for all these practitioners is substantial; I hope that that has
come through in the chapter descriptions. They have cumulatively touched
the lives of many hundreds of students fortunate enough to be exposed to
passionate, challenging instructors who clearly are themselves motivated by
the process of motivating. While, like the indulgent parent, I feel general pride
and have no favorites, one (over)-achiever stands out even in this exalted
company.
With his resolute confidence and calmly effervescent personality, Niman
at the University of New Hampshire (UNH) drove his team to redesign the
EconJourney experience numerous times between 2013 and 2016, learning
from each iteration and listening to feedback. The revamped course features
carefully calibrated levels of support, reward, and challenge and has benefit-
ted by high usage and high frequency of scheduling (it was used in three
courses in the final twelve months of my work with him). Results have been
incrementally, but increasingly, positive, while Niman’s willingness to sup-
port his design principles with solid, academically rigorous notation and re-
porting has provided a platform for him to gain significant credibility at his
institution. While I have categorized the gamer educator as a somewhat edgy
disrupter who prefers to dwell on the outskirts or off the radar, Niman charged
straight into the key influencers in his world. His book The Gamification of
Higher Education: Developing a Game-Based Business Strategy in a Disrupted Mar-
ketplace was published in 2014, and each of his projects is supported by highly
organized and professional white papers that provide validation and support
for his ideas. While the EconJourney course/concept has shown great prom-
ise in the realm of student engagement and persistence, particularly for non-
STEM majors, a potential game-changer (no pun intended) has also been
spawned at UNH on the back of Niman’s work. The combination of encourag-
ing early class results, solid research protocols, and polished documentation
of his work has combined into this perfect storm. This final development,
Niman’s promotion to the position of associate dean, cemented the foundation
for a wider dissemination of bigger ideas that he had somewhat whimsically
(I thought) shared back in 2012 when we first met. He had long held an idea
that the needle on better student behavior, not only academically but also in
172 Game On!
social, health, and community-related contexts, might be moved by imple-

menting intrinsically motivating life-related game dynamics on a campus level.
Fast-forward to late summer 2016, when a specific set of planets seem to have
aligned in the case of the UNH, among them the drive of Niman, the work of
his enthusiastic graduate assistants, good feedback on his gamification work to
that point, and the support of Todd Leach, the UNH system chancellor. What
they have developed, led by Niman, is a large-scale, business-school-w ide
implementation of a series of gamefully-designed activities melded to course-
work that significantly impacts curricular and extracurricular challenges faced
by business freshmen in their first months on campus. Niman, now working
as Associate Dean of Academic Programs and Associate Professor of Econom-
ics within the Peter T. Paul College of Business and Economics, has lost none
of his joie de vivre or bonhomie.
Paul College, as it tends to be called within the community, enrolls 2,600
undergraduate and 300 graduate students with a 65% male to 35% female
split. According to the college website, it “prepares students for f uture c areers
in management, public serv ice, research, and education.” T
here is a clear em-
phasis on rounded individuals, with the liberal arts side of the curriculum
actually valued rather than being seen as a necessary evil. It is felt within
Paul College, and indeed for all 3,200 undergraduate first-year students at
UNH, that a traditional residential campus experience is a key part of the
student lifecycle. It is in this firmament that Niman has allowed himself a
slightly contrived yet mnemonically valuable acronym to explain his extended
gamification project. The Freshman Innovation and Research Experience
(FIRE Program, figure 20) is designed to provide a comprehensive framework
and inherent guidelines for a healthy body, healthy mind initial immersion to
college life. It is intended to get new students familiar and comfortable with
academic practices and to assimilate college/social culture, couched in a con-
text of healthy, or at least healthier, living. Special focus is spent on mental
health and well-being.
The program is intentionally outcomes-based, conveying to students the
skills, knowledge, and experiences they w ill need to reach academic goals
without falling victim to the vicissitudes of life as young adults living away
from home for the first time. It is intended to be a comprehensive, holistic
experience that firmly establishes persistent strategies and practices to in-
crease student likelihood of success while illustrating and suggesting to them
ways of dealing with the varied challenges they w
ill experience as new stu-
Catching Fire 173
Figure 20. Logo from the UNH FIRE program. © UNH/Niman; reproduced with
permission of Neil Niman, University of New Hampshire.
dents on campus. Niman describes the intent of the program as a “dual,

broad brush-stroke goal,” providing an environment in which development
of “social ties among fledgling communities of engaged learners” is encour-
aged while introducing newly arrived first-years to the traditional residential
experience.
From a curricular perspective, students are required to take two foundational
courses: First-Year Academic Experience I and II (PAUL 405 and 406). T
hese
two courses are contained within the larger general education program that
runs across both spring and fall terms. Each class consists of a weekly one-
hour face-to-face session, with an expectation that the students w ill spend
approximately two additional hours a week outside of class working on re-
lated assignments. Around 700 students of the entering UNH business class
were sorted (Hogwarts-style) into teams of 20–25 people based on their ma-
jor, echoing the dependent hero contingency element that we saw in a num-
ber of earlier examples.
In their paper “The Paul College FIRE Program,” Niman and his coauthors
describe the project as an, “integrated, team-based game-like experience”
(Niman, Rury, & Stewart 2015). The game elements are layered onto the
academically recognized one-credit core courses as a means of intrinsically
motivating participants to engage with the core learning goals. The formal
goals are listed as
• Informing UNH students of the resources and opportunities avail-

able to them for c areer and academic assistance.
174 Game On!
• Developing skills needed to succeed as a UNH and PAUL College

student, as well as in business and professional situations throughout
their career.
• Encouraging students to get involved in (healthy) campus activities
and pursuits.
• Giving each student an opportunity to stand out (illustrating how
each student has individual strengths, weaknesses and differences;
and that they can all be celebrated and leveraged).
The embedded academic curriculum is intended to engender students

with the ability to
• Approach and solve complex problems using a variety of different

techniques.
• Effectively present a business concept and corresponding research.
• Experience and develop the culture of being part of a team.
• Locate and evaluate to potential majors, internship opportunities
and the corresponding career paths.
• Recognize the importance of mentorship and the value of the
broader UNH community network in a “low-risk” environment.
The above aspects are arranged around what Niman and his team calls the
three foundational pillars that organize and categorize the students’ learning
goals. The pillars are mentorship, the grand academic challenge, and gamification.
To illustrate the value of mentorship, juniors or seniors are selected to
serve as peer advisors and support the freshmen participants in their early
transitions. The application process for the mentor positions is rigorous, with
all candidates interviewed prior to acceptance. Peer advisors are required to
take the bespoke two-credit course PAUL 696: Supervised Student Teaching,
which is jointly taught by the director of undergraduate programs and the
FIRE program coordinator. PAUL 696 is designed to imbue participants with
the principles of effective mentorship and student teaching practice. It is
fleshed out with case studies and worked examples of prior situations in the
FIRE program where students faced challenges and needed mentor support to
get through them. T
hese worked examples provide real-time means for men-
tor trainee participants to share experiences and discuss means and best
practices in supporting peers in who may be experiencing challenges. In
most cases, these juniors and seniors are based on or near campus, physically
Catching Fire 175
close by their mentees (the first year participants in the FIRE program). In
this small college town, by virtue of their walking the same streets, using the
same gyms, and perhaps g
oing to the same bars, they are indeed well placed
to support in loco parentis.
Another layer of support and expertise is provided by the involvement of
alumni mentors who are invited back to participate and reflect on their expe-
riences. Niman found that this has proven a serendipitous bridge to more re-
cent alumni that doubtless delights his advancement colleagues at UNH. The
alumni participants are typically younger recent graduates who want to give
back to the institution. As they are not yet in a position to do so financially,
they contribute with in-k ind time and support. Alumni typically interact
with FIRE participants virtually without physically returning to campus.
Niman describes these alumni mentors as “a bridge to the real world,” supply-
ing practical experience that provides “illustrative context and rationale for
many of the concepts that, to the insular freshmen, may seem irrelevant or less
important.” The “bridge” aspect is the connection from what may well ap-
pear to be a less-than-authentic, theoretical academic study of principles
and concepts to applied real-world value. As Niman notes, for most of us this
awareness typically only becomes apparent quite a few years a
fter gradua-
tion, by which time opportunities may have been missed and m
istakes al-
ready made. Alumni mentors typically emphasize skills such as the value
of clear communication techniques, teamwork, and professional business
etiquette.
The context and narrative of the FIRE program r eally kick in with g
rand
academic challenges. In the early stages (the first four weeks of the program)
students can accumulate points that count towards team totals. These totals
provide early competition and camaraderie and lead in to the next stage of
the game. Niman refers to the grand academic challenge as the “centerpiece
of the experience.” The highest-scoring team a
fter the opening four weeks
gets first choice between a number of provided contexts for the next stage or
level. Recent challenges have included
• Colonizing Mars;
• Living virtually;
• Prolonging life;
• Powering the Northeast; and
• Surviving extreme weather.
176 Game On!
These challenges are intended to provide a motivating context (in our ear-
lier chapters, Kapp’s “narrative” category would be checked) and a milieu in
which core skills can be cultivated. The skills are intended to translate quickly
and with fidelity to authentic business situations. The challenges are large
and ambitious but motivate and foment practice in real-
world-
applicable
skills and competencies. Within each of the teams, students are divided into
subteams and tasked with reviewing these challenges through one of four
lenses: economic, political, social, or techno-scientific. The initial intent is to
have students realize the complex, yet interdependent, aspects of larger is-
sues when viewed from different perspectives. In conjunction with UNH’s
research librarians, Niman’s team produced research guides that provide con-
text and critical information on each challenge area for the participants.
Small activities and mini-games are woven in and through the content in the
guides to train students in behaviors and skills while modeling how they can
succeed in their studies and substantiate their research.
The third key aspect of the FIRE project, the gamification pillar, is accen-
tuated through the cooperation of the team members, the challenge be-
tween teams, the narrative that is developed around the challenges, and the
feedback mechanisms built into the system. Figure 21 is a screenshot of the
team leaderboard showing the scores and positions of the top 10 teams (“de-
pendent hero contingency,” again). T
here is also an individual leaderboard
and numerous bonus recognitions and awards that channel Niman’s favorite
sport (cycling) and its hallmark event, the Tour de France. In the Tour t here
are a large number of individual and team awards (specialist sprint awards,
best mountain climber, fastest team, etc.) that, when converted to Niman’s
FIRE world, allow for multiple recognitions and opportunities for individuals
and teams with what he calls “different strengths” to be recognized and cele-
brated alongside the eventual winner and the team trophy.
Students win awards and points for academic aspects that count toward
team totals. They also win credits and score points for certain behaviors on
campus, such as participating in university events and activities (healthy,
social community events that d
on’t involve copious amounts of alcohol or
pizza). As Niman puts it, “By creating a nexus that facilitates the making of
connections that can serve as either a substitute or a complement for what
exists in their residence hall, students in the FIRE program are provided with
an expanded pool of opportunities for building meaningful social relation-
ships.” The game-connected point and incentive systems give students rea-
sons to participate and help get them over shyness and initial inertia by
Catching Fire 177
Figure 21. Screenshot: Team leaderboard from the UNH FIRE project, 2016. Reproduced
with permission of Neil Niman, University of New Hampshire.
encouraging them to attend events with fellow team members and adding
bonus points for inclusiveness. Point-based feedback is augmented with prizes
given at specific events, including FIRE-branded merchandise and what the
organizers call Luminary Awards for advancing in the game. The latter speaks
to what we have seen multiple times in the practitioner examples described
as “reduced fear of failure,” while the former has engendered a sense of
pride, illustrating the value of aesthetics elevating the status of FIRE “merch”
at UNH.
On the academic side of FIRE, tangible deliverables include three graded
assignments in the fall semester and four in the spring. PAUL 405, the first
course, requires that the students submit what is referred to as an academic
autobiography, a self-assessment piece requiring that they candidly assess their
strengths and weaknesses before presenting their work on the g
rand chal-
lenges with their assigned lens or role in the team. The second part of the
lens work is a group presentation where they share and meld their findings
within the team before presenting to the panel. This challenge culminates in
a reality TV-like playoff in front of a panel of judges who assess each team’s
presentations, which, at a meta-level, outlines a business opportunity in the
area of their challenge. These sessions were held at the university’s Under-
graduate Research Conference and, according to Niman, w
ere extremely well
attended and notable for the maturity of the projects and the skills and poise
of the presenters.
178 Game On!
PAUL 406, the second academic course within FIRE, focuses on the stu-
dents’ choices, looking further out to minors, majors, and extra possibilities at
UNH including study abroad and internship projects. The students in the sec-
ond (spring) term work closely with the alumni mentors, who provide tailored
support in areas such as resume writing, networking, and associated real-
world skills. To accentuate the importance of these skills and to provide a
further element of experiential learning during this term, the university hosts
a networking reception and a c areer boot camp. Attendance and participation
at this reception are high, and, as an external metric suggesting validation,
first-year student participation at the annual spring career fair was almost
doubled in the year after the FIRE launch. Niman was confident of the causal-
ity as well as the correlation. The grand challenge documentation included
multiple drafts and revision cycles, group work, and self-reflection, all empha-
sizing the need for polished, professional writing, presentation, and commu-
nication skills.
Student Stories
A student who recently participated in the FIRE program relayed her experi-
ence of the g
rand challenge and the team interaction:
Our group challenge was to create a product or service that could help t hose affected
by extreme weather. A
fter a review of real problems facing the world today, our
team decided that fresh w
ater would play an even more critical role globally. Our
product, Oasis, is a compact w
ater purifier specifically designed for natural and en-
vironmental disasters (e.g. floods, hurricanes, contaminants).
I enjoyed the opportunity to be one of our team’s five presenters. I recognized the
importance of the detailed preparation that went into our business plan. Each of the
members of my team played a critical role. No one person can be credited with our
team/company success. As previously mentioned, “If it’s about the company, then
it’s about the team.”
We made it through the first round with a very relevant product combined with an
impactful presentation. I believe we won in the final round b
ecause judges found
our team to be professional and our presentation well designed. Winning the URC
[Undergraduate Research Conference] for FIRE was so satisfying because it was at
that point I recognized the true value of the UNH curriculum.
Catching Fire 179
One of the peer advisors reflected on his experience mentoring and sup-
porting FIRE participants:
My experience as a peer advisor has been very rewarding. Not only have I facilitated
student growth and development, I have learned and fine-tuned many skills of my
own. Additionally, I have expanded my network to include a variety of interesting
alumni, teachers, students and advisors who have provided me with valuable in-
sights and lessons. Lastly, being a peer advisor has been very enjoyable! Whether it
was joking around with the advisors in the office or participating in team events, I
have had a great time. Paul College has some tremendous people, and meeting
them has been both eye opening and fun. Without the experiences obtained as a
peer advisor, I would not be the person I am t oday.
A third student commented looking back on his experience and forward

to his and the program’s f uture:
The beauty of FIRE is that we are being rewarded for taking advantage of these op-
portunities. It is not another obligation but rather an opportunity in itself. I was able
to win the first semester of FIRE because I was not afraid to listen to advice from
people who knew more and got involved. FIRE allowed me to see what I wanted to
get involved in at UNH and through that what I want to do for the rest of my life.
FIRE is essentially an awareness program. We are learning, hands on, all of the skills
we need to be successful students and, therefore, successful professionals. W
e’re
taught about UNH so we can utilize our resources. We are motivated to get involved
to access e
very opportunity. Most importantly, we focus on professional and per-
sonal development so we can excel beyond schooling.
Combustion
The perfect storm of push-pull came into being at UNH when Niman’s enthu-
siasm, his track record, and his mostly successful EconJourney project arrived
just as the freshman academic experience course was hitting its nadir in terms
of relevance (for the students) and efficacy (per institutional metrics). As with
many first-year experience courses, students were dragging their heels, “mail-
ing in” their work, and not really retaining anything they were purported to
have learned. The respect with which Niman was regarded at UNH, along with
his periodic but effective communication with the UNH system chancellor,
Leach, positioned him, his team, and his project to gain enthusiastic sponsor-
ship and institutional support when opportunity arose. The implementation
180 Game On!
500
450
400
Number of participants
350
300
250
200
150
100
50
0
15
5
15
5
15
15
15
v1
v1
v1
v1
c1
t1
t1
t1
t1
t1
p
g
Oc
Oc
Oc
Oc
Oc
De
No
No
No
No
Au
Se
Se
Se
Se
03
10
17
24
31
19
05
12
26
05
07
14
21
28
29
Date of event/activity
Figure 22. UNH FIRE participation. Reproduced with permission of Neil Niman,

University of New Hampshire.
of FIRE has been, by most methods of review, a roaring success. As the team
puts it, “Attending class has become an opportunity to connect with friends.
By building on each other, assignments have a rationale and reason with an
achievable goal at the end. More Paul College students are joining clubs and
participating in extracurricular activities. The library guides supporting the
grand challenges are the most visited pages at the UNH library.”
Figure 22 shows student activity in the LMS, with spikes corresponding to
assignment due dates or key times around when rankings w
ere assessed. Stu-
dent surveys indicated that FIRE participants w
ere participating in a greater
number of extracurricular activities than students did back in pre-FIRE years.
In the fall semester survey more than half of responding students reported
participating in at least five events or activities. Eighty-four percent of stu-
dents reported making friends within their FIRE team, while 96 percent felt
comfortable approaching their peer/mentor with a concern.
In terms of academics, a general census across first-year courses showed
upticks in FIRE students’ grade point averages (GPAs) (table 5). The improve-
ments were particularly noted in courses where writing and presentation skills
were emphasized (table 6). The three courses Introduction to Business (ADMN
400), First Year Writing (ENGL 401), and Ethics (PHIL 430) all reported sig-
nificant increases in course grades for FIRE participants.
Catching Fire 181
Table 5. Student GPAs before and a fter FIRE participation

Fall 2015 Fall 2014
Number of Percentage Number of Percentage
students of class students of class
At or above 3.0 405 60.72 369 54.03
At or above 3.5 178 26.69 142 20.79
At or above 3.75 95 14.24 49 7.17
At 4.0 28 4.20 9 1.32
Table 6. Student performance in courses emphasizing writing and presentation skills

at UNH before and after FIRE participation.
Fall 2015 Fall 2014
Number of Average Number of Average GPA change
students GPA students GPA (%)
ADMN 400 585 3.29 614 3.02 +8.94
ENGL 401 105 3.44 141 3.24 +6.17
PHIL 430 305 3.16 22 2.76 +14.49
Conclusions
The stated goal of the FIRE program was “to strengthen the tie between aca-
demics, the student experience and career preparation.” It achieved its goal
through application of mentorships and gameful design. The game frame-
work allows participants to engender social ties and practice skills with re-
duced fear of failure in a game-based context. The incentives and gameful
cooperation, competition, and reward provide a powerful impetus and re-
move many of the excuses for not engaging with the college experience.
While not scoring outright first in my S IMPLE review, Niman’s model
was well placed. He then benefitted more than the o
thers by virtue of his
standing, his documentation, his willingness to keep tweaking his format,
his empathetic chancellor, and his relentless confidence and humor. Hav-
ing extended his EconJourney class and the learning and experience therein
to the w
hole first-year experience and the FIRE project, Niman doesn’t see a
need to stop t here. He is confident that the model w
ill work outside of the
business envelope. The interdisciplinary nature of the g
rand challenge work
and the ubiquitous skills needed in the vast majority of c areers suggest to
him that he can (and w ill) extend the project to all incoming students at
UNH. He has even spoken with other institutions and is confident that he
182 Game On!
could support external installs of this clearly effective program. I have ab-
solutely no doubt that he can continue to achieve whatever he thinks is
feasible. His, and indeed all t hese gamer-educators’, adventures are clearly
not over.
Captain’s Epilogue
The narrative of this text began with Space Invaders and PacMan (and Ashton
Kutcher for a reason that now escapes me). As I come to conclusions and at-
tempt to wrap the text with pithy conclusions, I am going to timestamp and
date this with a reflection on the craze of the current day (early 2017). The Space
Invaders references described the first time technology was added to the mix of
gaming on a massive scale and how that, perhaps belatedly, is influencing
teaching and learning 40 years on. Pokémon Go is an interesting social phenom-
enon given its gameful elements and the amount of commitment and work
being put in by t hose caught in its spell. It has eclipsed porn, news, and weather
in terms of web-search popularity and is, by most definitions, the most success-
ful mobile game ever created. While Space Invaders generated similar levels of
addiction, GPS tracking (obviously not available in 1978), 4G, and smartphones
facilitate mobility, allowing the game developers to accentuate intrinsic moti-
vators and effectively address all of the elements described in chapter 8.
Created by Nintendo, the Pokémon Company, and Niantic (a Google spi-
noff), Pokémon Go added a near-immediate $17.6 billion in market capitaliza-
tion to Nintendo’s stock price, almost doubling its value, when it launched. A
subsequent dip when Nintendo clarified that they in fact only had a 17%
stake in Niantic did not detract from the sentiment that they made a wise
move expanding to mobile gaming from the console base that they had held
on to since the eighties. If we assess Pokémon Go against the S IMPLE matrix
(table 7), it is apparent that they have leveraged almost e very means of ramp-
ing up intrinsic motivation in their users.
As table 7 indicates, Pokémon Go should be a highly addictive, highly
motivating activity. And guess what? It is. The aesthetics are not particu-
larly “stunning,” and the play, catch, repeat narrative may get repetitive for
some players. But even with those caveats stated, it apparently should come
with a health warning. A couple in Arizona was recently charged with child
184 Game On!
Table 7. The Pokémon (high) bar

(0 pts.) (1 pt.) (2 pts.) (3 pts.)
Rules clear and effective X
Effortless involvement—pick up X
Appropriate level of challenge X

CCCP: conflict, cooperation, and X

competition are all possible
Clear goals with inherent, clear X

reward structures
Immediate and continual feedback X

from instructor, system and/or
peers
Leveling up or at least a clear X

sense of progress
Narrative / curve of interest—can X
Stunning aesthetics X
Fear of failure reduced (mindsets) X
Student control over actions X

(they get choices at every step)
endangerment having left their toddler unattended for 90 minutes in 90-degree

heat while they played. Another player traveled to Australia to catch a Kan-
gaskhan but was hit by a car while attempting to do so. As he relayed to Busi-
ness Insider, “I thought to myself, I could have died searching for Pokémon . . .
what has my life arrived to?”—indeed.
It is often said that in terms of looking for means of engaging customers,
pornography is streets ahead of any other, ahem, diversion. When a f ree mo-
bile game, with no tangible prizes and none of the inherent compulsions
that drive consumers to porn, outstrips (no pun intended) that commitment,
something significant is happening. When a mobile gaming app hits our tar-
get demographic right between the eyes and confirms much of what we are
theorizing might work in higher education, we can safely say that we are at a
nexus, a point of inflection, a watershed, or a defining moment. Demograph-

ically, 63% of Pokémon Go players are female compared to 37% who are male,
46% of players are between the ages of 18 and 29, and 45% of them make over
$50,000 per year. Detractors against gamification and gameful design often
talk of the dumbing-down effect—the catering to juvenilia. This Pokémon
Go–playing demographic is not a brain-dead kid. We could do worse (clearly)
than to chase the chasers, but we w
ill have to offer them something at least a
little bit engaging in their education.
Technologies like those employed in the Pokémon Go game are becoming
increasingly accessible for developers and affordable for institutions. Low-
tech, “napkin sketch” versions of gamified classes have proven our concept,
and the evolution of practitioner work (Niman’s FIRE project in chapter 9)
suggests that administrators and academics alike are developing a willing-
ness to embrace and encourage even fledgling efforts. The technical and ad-
ministrative challenges all seem surmountable. How many of us would have
identified Niman’s EconJourney as the one of the five cases that would lead to
such an enhanced and extended implementation? From my engagement
with Niman, his team, and the environment at the University of New Hamp-
shire, I would categorize the progenitors of his success in three basic catego-
ries. A review of the traits in t hese categories (below) could well be instructive
to future practitioners as they contemplate gamefully designed activities or
classes. H
ere are the key elements that, when aligned, have led to a very suc-
cessful, institutionally supported, and well-f unded implementation.
Practitioner Traits
• Unflappable-ness;
• Gamer traits (fun, playful, determined, no fear of failure);
• Confidence in the value of the work;
• Ability to lead teams and willingness to give it a go with what you
have to hand in terms of available, nearly f ree resources (smart,
willing grad assistants, tools that are not so complex they alienate or
confuse the community);
• A solid research background for generating academic/institutional
buy-in;
• Articulate and good at documentation; and
• A level of seniority that provides some degree of autonomy (reduced
fear of failure).
186 Game On!
Implementation Traits
• Good use of, and integration with, established, familiar institutional
technologies;
• Minimal tech for the sake of tech add-ons that are not integral to the
product;
• Low-threshold apps—all developments able to be quickly launched
without too much drama or need for large-scale tech support (at least
until proof of concept is in);
• Quick turnaround on incremental improvements; and
• Flexible means for students to play (not too locked in).
Institutional Traits
• Leadership that is open to innovation;
• A defined and identifiable need with a concise elevator pitch (in
Niman’s case, engagement of at-risk first-year students); and
• Willingness for, or at least a tolerance of, novelty and ambiguity.
In uniting elements of cognitive science, adaptive learning, learning ana-

lytics, and (very simply) inspired and fun teaching, gamification clearly has
appeal and real potential for improving student engagement. Further devel-
opment w ill be motivated by a societal and institutional need to scale online
courses, unparalleled access to learning management system data, and new
desires to improve student engagement. Given the extended access possibilities
of online instruction, as opposed to traditional campus-based education, ad-
vocates for the underserved and legislators in states with ambitious educational
attainment goals should explore, or at least support, research into any and all
possible avenues for student engagement and retention.
Many of the factors attracting students to traditional institutions are
not v iable in the online environment. The charisma of engaging instruc-
tors, human empathy, and personality are almost impossible to replicate in
an online environment. However, incremental adjustments to aspects of the
online environment, including the nature and format of materials and the
information architecture of a course (how the materials are presented), can
be tried and monitored without large investment or extra allocation of sig-
nificant resources. This low-cost flexibility to change modes of delivery incre-
mentally and monitor the impact of t hese changes confirms that intentional
online course development has great capacity to try out new concepts in the
hope that at least one, possibly more, w ill make a significant difference. If
research into gamification produces findings that enhance student engage-

ment or persistence, it could translate into massive benefits to society and the
field of higher education given these large and still-growing numbers.
Going forward, it would be helpful to examine w
hether particular for-
mats and audiences benefit disproportionately from course gamification, as
some practitioners suggested. Research should explicitly explore the working
hypothesis—articulated in the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts and, to
a lesser extent, the University of New Hampshire case—that fragile learners,
first-generation college students, and those for whom education has always
seemed a daunting prospect may be helped by less threatening, gamified
courses. Emerging disrupted models of education such as competency-based
education and direct assessment provide further opportunities to build in
rewards, immediate feedback, and other parameters from Kapp (2012), Csik-
szentmihalyi (1975), and the SIMPLE matrix (Bell 2014). Gamification may
provide a means by which newer, disrupted formats for delivering education
have an increased chance of success with critical demographics for whom
there are few other options.
My motivation in engaging with the practitioners and the cases studied
was to dig deeper into aspects of online education that the literat ure suggests
matter for improving student engagement and learning outcomes. It turned
out that the most interesting alignment of these elements was manifest in
gamified courses. As I have tried to demonstrate, this is not capturing a new
cult or a new fad. I have seen S IMPLE traits in many classrooms, and it is
my belief that what we are seeing with gamified classes (face to face, hybrid,
or fully online) is merely a means of accentuating what effective, motivated
instructors do on a daily basis in their classes. I hope that this collection
also provides inspiration for institutions, developers, and faculty members
who are tempted to have a go at gamified courses in the f uture. As the practi
tioners and my own interviews demonstrated, students are bored. Typically
their classes are not (almost cannot be) as engaging as Facebook, Snapchat,
or Pokémon Go. No one is expected to approximate or outdo these sticky
apps. Students don’t want their education to spill over into their social lives.
They are, however, happy to say, “Give it a go. Give me something vaguely
interesting that speaks to me and that shows that you have made an effort to
meet me halfway.” Students who commented on the low-tech builds encour-
aged more sophisticated (later) versions but did so in a supportive, construc-
tive manner.
188 Game On!
Clearly there are, or w ill be in many institutions, structural issues particu-

larly with regard to the availability of technical support and platform. There
are g
oing to be political impediments, perhaps even governance issues, and
naysayers to navigate. In the first person, I implore you to take lessons from
the wonderful, positive instructors in this story. Give it a go. Be open to fail-
ures as well as successes. Learn from the former, and use the latter to further
the project. Look at the achievements in this book. Will increased student
engagement gain interest at your institution? Will potential inclusion and
removal of instructor unconscious bias be noted? Will support and motiva-
tion of low-SES, fragile, or first-generation students gain attention? W
ill it be
fun for you? At worst, you’ll be a happy, motivated instructor having fun,
meeting the students on their level, and learning with and from them—can’t
be all bad, can it?
Gamification very possibly has a role to play in moving the needle on stu-
dent engagement, the clearest measurable associate to success that we have. It
may be a minor role or a major one. It could be the Holy Grail or akin to one
Sokolow wedge in a save the planet challenge. Either way, I d
on’t know that
the scale of success really matters in rumination over a try/don’t try decision.
Future work w ill doubtless unlock more of the keys to engagement and moti-
vation that could turn fragile learners into lifelong learners. If we can focus
effort yoked to a have a go attitude, we could make dull, impossible courses
feel compelling and achievement feasible for those who currently have the
worst prospects of success. If this gives anyone a shot at helping any and
all students, why would we not? If we can disproportionately encourage un-
derserved and individuals typically “dropped out” by both society and aca-
demia, one could argue that we must do so. Motivating and encouraging
student achievement is the main reason most of us work in higher education.
In engaging students, especially t hose who are struggling, we w ill have taken
a significant step toward a more educated and inclusive society.
Go ahead: Soar once again. Save the planet. Zap antipathy and boredom.
Be the Gorfian Space Avenger you once w
ere. Get to level 27. Game on!
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Index
academia, business terminology in, 5 Biklen, S. K., 43

Academically Adrift (Arum and Roska), 4 Blackboard, 7, 29, 33, 86
academic autobiography, 177 Bloom, B. J., 22
academic degrees, lifetime salaries and, 6 Bloom’s Taxonomy, 22
active learning, 24 board games, 134–35
Adapt Courseware, 33 Bogdan, R., 43
adaptive learning, 26, 30, 32–33, 35, 42, 166 boss battles, 81, 118–19
Adaptive Learning Market Acceleration boss levels, 58
Program, 33 Boston, Wallace (Wally), 24
Adaptive Learning Research Grant Bottom Line Up Fronts (BLUFs), 136
Program, 33 Breakout, 2
Adventure, 51 Breit, William, 77
Aebli, Fred, 131–49, 160, 164, 169–71 Bushnell, Nolan, 2
aesthetics, 40, 41
Agricultural College of Pennsylvania, 131 Campbell, Joseph, 41, 79
Allgood, S., 78 campuses, residential, 8
American Public Education, 24 Candy Crush, 3
Andres, Greg, 96–110, 156–57, 159–60, Canvas LMS, 47, 52, 53, 99, 113, 118, 125,
163–64, 169–70 134, 141
Angel LMS, 134, 136 CBE. See competency-based education
anonymity, 99, 152 CEL. See Centre for Extended Learning
apps, engagement with, 3, 17–18 Center for Academic Technology (MCLA), 129
arcade games, 1–2 Center for Teaching Excellence (UW), 108
Arizona State University, 15 Centre for Extended Learning (UW), 99,
Arneson, Dave, 112 105, 109
Arum, R., 4 Cerego, 32
Asgari, M., 34, 38 challenge, 39, 53–54, 57–58
Assaf, Elizabeth, 76, 87 Chaturanga, 35
assessment, 23, 28, 98, 162–70; scaling of, Chen, P.-S., 28
119–20; unexpected, 106 Chickering, A. W., 29
asynchronous discussion, 95 Christensen, Clayton, 11–12, 15
Atari, 2, 51, 132 chunking, 24, 25, 31–32
autonomy, 18, 84, 153 Clark, Richard, 25, 31
class participation, 116–18
Bally, 1 Clerkin, Kris, 16
Battlefield 4, 70 Cline, Ernest, 51
Berkshire Hills Internship Program, 111 co-c reation, 73–75, 77, 78, 84
Berry, Richard, 18 Codak, Dresden (Aaron Diaz), 112
Betti, Ross, 114, 116, 117, 120, 122–23 coding boot camps, 6
198 Index
CogBooks, 32 Disney World, 143

cognitive load theory, 31 diversions, 45–46
cognitive science, 26, 28, 30–32, 42 Drucker, Peter, 7
cognitive task analysis, 31 D2L. See Desire2Learn
collaboration, 117 Dungeon Defender II, 70
Collins, A. M., 35 Dungeons and Discourse, 111–30, 158, 165;
commitment, transference of, 3 flow criteria and, 162, 164; Kapp analysis
Compeau, D. R., 30 of, 160, 164; SIMPLE matrix assessment of,
competency-based education, for online 169, 170
student support, 15 Dungeons & Dragons, 112, 132–33
competition, 40, 45, 53–54, 75–76, 83, 85, 128,
137; personalization and, 113–14; students’ Easter eggs, 51, 55–58, 62–63, 162
enjoyment of, 69; team, 57. See also Ecclestone, Kathryn, 26
motivation EconJourney, 76–93, 165, 171; flow criteria
completion rates, 8, 10, 20 and, 162, 163; Kapp analysis of, 159, 160;
Condition of STEM (ACT), 11 SIMPLE matrix assessment of, 168, 169,
conflict, 40 170
constructivism, 95 economics: gamification of, 71–93; interdisci-
contextualization, 10, 39 plinary approach to, 78, 88–89; personaliz-
contract grading, 126, 127 ing, 77–78
control, 39 education, action versions of, 36
cooperation, 40, 85, 175–77; motivation and, educational games, 14, 34
138, 145–46 EdX, 47
cooperative education, 94, 97–98, 109 elemental tetrad, 39
course completion: rates of, 8, 10, 20; Elzinga, Kenneth, 77
time-on-task and, 14, 16 Emanuel, E. J., 155
Coursera, 47, 52, 155 Embanet, 25
Creative Commons, 115 empathy, 3
credentialing, alternate, 6 employability, 6
Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly, 38–39, 157, engagement, 14–15, 127, 141, 143–44; best
161–65, 187 types of, 38; built in, 30; concepts related to,
curiosity, 39 30; definitions of, 28–29; enhancing,
113–14; fostering, principles for, 29;
Dartmouth College, 71–72 gamification and, 27, 186; measures of,
data visualization, 140 28–30; psychology of, 27; supporting, 17
Davis Educational Foundation, 10 Ethical Decision Making (UW course), 95–110,
dependent hero contingency, 54, 66, 176 158, 165; flow criteria and, 162, 163–64;
design, 34. See also aesthetics Kapp analysis of, 159–60, 163; SIMPLE
Desire2Learn, 29, 107 matrix assessment of, 169–70
Diaz, Aaron, 112 Evaluation of Evidence-Based Practices in
DiCaprio, Leonardo, 2 Online Learning (US Department of
Dickey, Michelle, 69 Education), 16
difficulty, calibration of, 45 Everspring, 25
disadvantaged students, 129–30. See also experience, shared cross-generationally, 3
underrepresented minorities experiential education, 95–96, 98, 178
discussion boards, 18, 23, 26, 55, 61, 101–2, experimentation, perception of, 106
107 expert blind spot, 25
Index 199
Facebook, 78–79 defining, 39–40; goals of, 40, 108; as

facilities, enhancement of, 7, 8 instructional tools, 36–38; levels in, 41;
faculty: connectivity of, 42; demands on, 12, motivational qualities of, 39; principles of,
42, 60, 120, 142; fear of, 49; isolation of, 3; in retail, 48; resources for designing, 14,
124, 153, 154; role of, unbundling of, 15, 36; in social media, 48
22; visibility of, 21–22, 42, 61 game theory, 96–99
failure, 36, 41, 75–76, 88, 129–30, 148 gamification, 18, 26, 28, 174; adoption of,
Fairy Tales: Origins and Evolution of Princess 154–55, 166; authenticity and, 138–41,
Stories, 44–70, 165; flow criteria and, 162; 146; balancing process with, 53; behavioral
Kapp analysis of, 158–59; S IMPLE matrix change and, 33, 40–41, 147; bias against,
assessment of, 168–70 127; chunking and, 31–32; class participation
Fallon, Anne, 105–6 and, 116; creating interest through, 67–68;
Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act, critical thinking and, 63, 117, 144, 148–49;
21, 50, 54, 85, 145 cross-case analysis of, 151, 157–67; defined,
fantasy, 39 26, 35, 40; democratizing participation, 116;
Farmer’s High School of Pennsylvania, 131 design choices for, 157; disengagement with,
feedback, 40–41; immediate, 21; from 136; educational, 34; elements of, 53–58,
instructors, 100–101, 103; on narratives, 83 87–88, 98, 113–24; engagement and, 27, 61,
FERPA. See Family Educational Rights and 113–14, 127, 138–41, 186; evaluation of, 16,
Privacy Act 98, 157, 166–67; in everyday life, 147; factions
FIRE program. See Freshman Innovation and in, 36; faculty time and, 60–64; fear of, 49;
Research Experience feedback and, 40–41; first-year experience
first-year experience courses, 172. See also and, 172–74; flow and, 37–38, 161–64; grades
Freshman Innovation and Research and, 54, 136, 142–43; in the instructional
Experience design community, 34; introductory courses
Fitbit activity tracker, 9 and, 122; in the military, 35; mnemonics
Flappy Bird, 3 and, 48, 74; modifying traditional academia,
flipped classroom, 68 62; MOOCs and, 49 (see also massive open
flow, 13–14, 157, 161–66; components of, online courses); motivation and, 122, 156;
38–39; gamification and, 37–38 narratives and, 159; parenthood and, 49;
Fly Teams, 137, 139, 140 pedagogy and, 26, 129; persistence and,
for-profit schools, 5 27, 74, 123–24; prac t it ione rs of, 153–54;
FourSquare, 9, 48–49, 50 reaction to, 67–68, 146–47, 154; resources
fragile learners, 12, 13, 62, 156, 163, 187; for, 50; retained knowledge and, 141; reward
engagement of, 25–26; support for, 26. structures in, 40 (see also rewards); role of,
See also underrepresented minorities 124; safe zones with, 75; smartphones and,
freedom, academic, 105 48–50; support for, 105, 165–66, 188;
Freshman Innovation and Research Experi- technological skill set for, 152–53; user
ence (FIRE; UNH), 172–82 enjoyment and, 37–38
Gamification conference, 94–95, 106
gameful design, 35, 42; application of, 17; Gamification of Higher Education, The (Niman),
characteristics of, 13, 16–17; democ 171
ratization and, 18; elements of, 185–86. Gamification of Learning and Instruction,
See also gamification The (Kapp), 157
game mechanics, 34 gaming: in arcades, 3–4; extensions of, 34–35;
games: aligning educational content with, low-tech, 36; optimism and, 9; social nature
165; assessment and, 106; elements of, of, 117
200 Index
gaming theory, 34 interest, curve of, 41

Gamson, Z. F., 29 Interplay, 48
Gates, Bill, 18 intraocular percussion test, 43
Gates (Bill and Melinda) Foundation, 10, 33 intrinsic motivation, 28, 144, 157
Gee, James Paul, 9–10, 12, 35, 36, 38 IST Club (Penn State–Worthington Scranton),
G8, 135–36 134
Generation X, as gamers come of age, 2–3
Gonyea, R., 28 Jobs, Steve, 2, 18
Google, hiring at, 6 Jobs (dir. Boyle), 2
grade inflation, 142–43 juicy feedback, 41
graduation rates, 8. See also completion rates
g rand academic challenge, 174, 175–78 Kapp, Karl, 26, 35, 40–41, 69, 75, 157–61,
graphic/multimedia support, 23 187
Greeno, J. G., 35 Kapp analysis, 158–60, 163–66
Gugax, Gary, 112 Ke, F., 37
Keller, J. M., 32–33
Hahr, Abigail, 76 Key, Francis Scott, 18
hard fun, 38 Knewton, 32
Harry Potter proxy protocol, 54 Kuh, George, 14–15, 28, 29
Hawtrey, K., 79 Kutcher, Ashton, 1, 2
Hay Day, 3
Hennessey, John, 52 Laytnera, Patrick, 103–4
heroes, role of, students adopting, 77 Leach, Todd, 172
hero’s journey, 41, 79–83, 85, 86, 89, 152, leaderboards, 54, 99–103, 105, 176
163 League of Extraordinary Gamers Club (Penn
aces, The (Campbell), 79
Hero with a Thousand F State–Worthington Scranton), 134–35
Higgins, C. A., 30 learner at the center, 24
higher education, 5–7; commodification of, learning: active participation in, 35; compared
130 to gaming, 35; Copernican revolution in,
Hulland, J. S., 30 18–19; failing and, 36
Hunger Games, The (Collins), 84 learning analytics, 26, 28, 30, 33–34
Hunicke, R., 41 learning architects, 23
learning goals, pillars for, 174
information systems technology, courses for, learning management systems, 16, 29, 49;
133–34 analytics and, 33; data captured from, 29;
Innovation and Entrepreneurship (Drucker), 7 specialists in, 23
Innovative University, The (Christensen), 11 learning styles, 28, 32
instruction, intrinsically motivated, 39 learning technology, complexity of, 23
instructional design, 22–23, 127–28; challenge LeBlanc, Paul, 15–16
for, 25–26; early focus of, 28; implementa- lecturing, 24, 78
tion of, 28; instructor-provided content and, Lepper, M. R., 39
26; student motivation and, 33 likes, desire for, 21, 75, 88
Instructional Design Principles for Intrinsic Litow, L., 54
Motivation, 39 LMS. See learning management systems
Instructure, 29 Louisiana State University, 7
integrated learning, 10 low-t hreshold technology, 14
interactive technology, 16 Lucas, George, 79, 81
Index 201
macroadaptivity, 32 Nintendo, 183

Malone, T. W., 39 Nishikado, Tomohiro, 1
Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts, 111–30, noncognitive student characteristics, 28
152, 158, 160, 162, 164, 165, 170, 187 North Adams (MA) Normal School, 111
massive open online courses (MOOCs), 5,
29, 42; challenges in, 58; decline in, 21; Obama, Barack, 8
completion rates for, 89, 155–56; explosion online curriculum/assessment specialists, 23
of, 20; gamification and, 49; flow analysis online education, 5; access to, 9, 15, 26;
and, 162; gamification of, 155–56; instructor analytics software for, 28; assessment of, 23,
load for, 54–55; lessons from, 21; media 28; automated feedback and support in, 15;
frenzy and, 52; outcomes of, 58–60; benefits of, 8–9; best practices for, 23–24;
potential of, 155–56; reusability and, 52–53; changes in, 23–25; chunking of, 24, 25;
scalability of, 60. See also Fairy Tales: Origins cognitive science and, 31; completion rates
and Evolution of Princess Stories for, 89; design of, 18, 22–23, 27; develop-
mastery, 18 ment of, 25–26, 32; early years of, 20–21;
McGonigal, Jane, 9 engagement in, 29, 30; external vendors
MCLA. See Massachusetts College of and, 25; faculty presence and, 21–22;
Liberal Arts feedback and, 21; interest in, increasing,
Meaningful Gaming conference, 146–47 20–21, 27; pedagogy for, 23–24; read-post-
mechanics, 39–40 respond discussions, 18; potential for,
mentorship, 174–75 22–23; retention in, 9; staff positions
Merrill, M. David, 25 supporting, 22; URMs in, 11–12
microadaptivity, 32 Online Learning Consortium International
Millennials: apps and, 3, 17–18; feedback and, Conference, 132
88; storytelling and, 77 oracles, 126
Miller, Chris, 72 Oral Roberts University, 9
mnemonics, 48, 74, 83, 88 overindexing, 3
MOOCs. See massive open online courses
Moreno, R., 31 Paas, F., 31
motivation, 17, 148; cooperation and, 138, Papert, S., 38
145–46; gamification and, 156; increasing, participation-incentive system, 115–16
51; intrinsic, 144, 157; relative position Paul (Peter T.) College of Business and
and, 75 Economics (UNH), 172–82
MS Visio, 142 peer advisors, 174, 179
multiple intelligences, 28 peer grading, 120
peer interaction, 83, 85, 88, 95, 101, 103, 165
narratives: co-c reation of, 73–75; elements of, peer pressure, 11, 54, 66, 145
46, 56–57; Facebook and, 78–79; mnemonic Penn State College, 131
value of, 48, 156; role of, 71, 73–74 Pennsylvania State University, The (Penn
National Survey of Student Engagement, 29 State)–Worthington Scranton Campus,
New Hampshire College of Agriculture and 131–49, 158, 160, 162, 165, 170–71
the Mechanic Arts, 71 persistence, gamification and, 27, 74, 123–24
new majority students, access/completion personalization, 113–14
challenges for, 10–11 Petruzella, Gerol, 111–30, 154, 164, 169, 170
Niantic, 183 PHIL 100: A First Course in Philosophy. See
Niman, Neil, 6–7, 19, 71, 73–93, 152, 159, 163, Dungeons and Discourse
168–74, 179–82, 185 philosophy, gamification of, 112–30
202 Index
play, in classrooms, 15 self-efficacy, 30–31

Plowman, Lydia, 71 Seven Principles for Good Practice in Under
plug-a nd-play technologies, 14 graduate Education (Chickering and
Pokémon Company, 183 Gamson), 29
Pokémon Go, 183–85 Siemens, G., 33
Pong, 2 SIMPLE matrix, 167–70, 183–84, 187
post-t raditional learners, 26–27 simulations, resources for designing, 14
Post-Traditional Learners and the Transformation Skinner, B. F., 22
of Postsecondary Education (Soares), 26 Soares, Louise, 26
Prahalad, C. K., 77, 84 social interaction, 83
predictive analytics, 148–49 social media, 9
Prensky, M., 34, 38 social network analysis, 140, 142
production specialists, 23 social support, 88
professional development courses, 104 Song, S. H., 32–33
Pumroy, D. K., 54 Southern New Hampshire University,
15–16, 22
quests, 114–15. See also hero’s journey Space Avenger, 13
Space Invaders, 1, 13, 16–17, 183
Ramaswamy, V., 77, 84 spotlight awards, 104
Ready Player One (Cline), 51 SRA 211. See Threat of Terrorism and Crime
Reality Is Broken (McGonigal), 9 Stanley, Nate, 115–16, 121, 123
Reddit, 120 Staples, D. S., 30
Reid-Selth, Bradley, 51 Star Wars (dir. Lucas), 1, 2, 132
relatedness, 18 STEM fields, 11
relative position, 75 Stewart, Mark, 99
replays, 41 student-centered learning, 24, 84
repurposing, 52 storytelling, 40–41, 46, 73, 76–77
Resnick, L. B., 35 students: classroom personas and, 87;
retention, 14–15 engagement of (see engagement)
reusability, 52 student serv ices, 13
rewards, 40, 45, 115–16, 120, 123, 125, Sullivan, Teresa, 5
140–41, 176–77 sustainability, 72–73
Rigby, C. Scott, 18 Sweller, J., 31
Robinett, Warren, 51
role-playing games, development of, 133 Taito Corporation, 1
Roma-Lyons group, 135–36 teamwork, importance of, 117–18. See also
Roska, J., 4 cooperation
Rutherford, LeAnne H., 16 Tedford, J., 78–79
telev ision, viewers’ control of, 18
Savitz, E., 78–79 textbooks, moving away from, 115
scaling, 6, 8, 15, 20, 21, 25, 42, 47–48, 60, Thompson, Benjamin, 72
119–20 Threat of Terrorism and Crime (SRA 211; Penn
scenario grading, 152 State–Worthington Scranton), 133–49,
Schell, Jesse, 27, 34, 39, 40, 41, 75 158, 165; flow criteria and, 162, 164; Kapp
SCL. See student-centered learning analysis of, 160; SIMPLE matrix assessment
security and risk analysis, 133–34. See also of, 169, 170
Threat of Terrorism and Crime time, as gamification element, 40
Index 203
time-on-task, 14, 16, 27, 28–29 Walstad, W. B., 78

Trudeau, Jennifer, 73–75, 79, 84, 89–90 war games, 35
Waterloo Professional Development, 95–96,
underrepresented minorities, 10–13, 112–13. 107–10. See also Ethical Decision Making
See also fragile learners WatPD. See Ethical Decision Making; Waterloo
University of New Hampshire (UNH), 71–79, Professional Development
86–89, 93, 152, 156, 158, 160, 162, 163, 165, wearables, 9
171–74, 185, 187. See also Paul College Wellman, Jane, 7
University of South Florida, 44–47, 52–53, Western Governors University (UT), 22
64–69, 152, 154, 155, 158, 162, 165 What Video Games Have to Teach Us about
University of V
irginia, 5 Learning and Literacy (Gee), 9–10
University of Waterloo, 94–110, 152, 155, 158, Wolfe, J., 37
162–65, 170 WordPress, 86, 92–93
URMs. See underrepresented minorities workforce retraining, 157
USF. See University of South Florida working memory, capacity of, 31
UW. See University of Waterloo World of Warcraft, 36
Wozniak, Steve, 2
Van Merriënboer, J., 31 writing skills, 4, 75, 83, 88, 90–92, 136, 180
video games: learning theory in, 9–10;
principles of, 45–46; teaching techniques Yee, Kevin, 44–70, 155, 156, 158–59, 162,
and, 12 168–70
Video Whizball, 51
Virga, Samantha-Jo, 86 Zichermann, Gabe, 34
Vogler, Christopher, 41, 79 Zuckerberg, Mark, 18

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What is the book about?

What is the book about?

What topics does it cover?

What topics does it cover?

JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY PRESS BALTIMORE

Johns Hopkins University Press

Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-­P ublication Data

Names: Bell, Kevin, 1968–­author.

Johns Hopkins University Press uses environmentally friendly book

Prologue. Ashton to Apple —­The Breakout Year ​1

1 A Societal Imperative: The Impetus for Online Education ​5

2 How Did We Get ­Here? The Maturation of Online Education ​20

3 The Fairy Tale MOOC ​44

4 The Hero’s Journey ​71

5 Ethical Decision Making ​94

6 Dungeons and Discourse ​111

7 Threat of Crime and Terrorism ​131

8 Assessing Gamification: Conclusions and Implications ​150

9 Catching Fire: The Model That Burned Brightest ​168

As is traditional, way too many p

Professionally, Northeastern University was a solid base, and ­people t­here

Stay in touch, old friends and new:

non-­earth-­defending mortals, many of ­these Space Invader champions, Pac

Despite rising costs of attendance, governmental and societal pressure has

1. The rising cost of d

Congress on February 24, 2009, President Barack Obama set a national goal

integrated learning through contextualized interaction in what is, in fact, a

The New Majority and the (Nuanced) New Agenda

Just as societal demographic changes ­were beginning to manifest in the

• minority students whose race/ethnicity is African American, American

• students from low income or low socioeconomic status whose

The STEM example actually provides one of the clearest illustrations of

their studies between jobs or a

middle-­class backgrounds (or in my case, ­because I grew up in the United

zle solvers and even, h

Given this alignment of impetuses and the logical notion to give it a go

In 2010, LeAnne H. Rutherford of the University of Minnesota described the

cept that education is suffering from a significant amount of deferred main-

How Did We Get ­Here?

Before diving headlong into practitioner cases, it is worth spending some

The primary takeaway lesson is that for the twenty-­first-­century student

issue well known to students and administrators in “traditional” online edu-

The concept of instructional design developed primarily from the World

(difficulty) of learning content. This combining of emerging concepts like

replicating live classroom experiences to using better practices for content

The humility needed for some instructors to lean on expertise provided by

As we crest the many challenges in delivering effective, pedagogically robust

academia. Having previously addressed the low-­hanging fruits of design con-

If a concept such as gamification has the potential to affect student en-

Despite t­ hese clear conclusions, a degree of inertia persists within academia

Engagement long has been identified as an essential precursor of student suc-

Building Engagement Into Online Courses

A number of theories inform our understanding of how aspects of instruc-

Self-­efficacy, a central ele­ment of cognitive science, describes the belief in

Adaptive learning describes the provision of multiple paths through materi-

A final perspective that might inform the understanding of gamification of

gains wrought by the application of cognitive science and adaptive learning

Educational gamification, accentuating and embracing the visceral ele­ments

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-P ublication Data

Names: Bell, Kevin, 1968–author.

Prologue. Ashton to Apple —The Breakout Year 1

1 A Societal Imperative: The Impetus for Online Education 5

2 How Did We Get Here? The Maturation of Online Education 20

3 The Fairy Tale MOOC 44

4 The Hero’s Journey 71

5 Ethical Decision Making 94

6 Dungeons and Discourse 111

7 Threat of Crime and Terrorism 131

8 Assessing Gamification: Conclusions and Implications 150

9 Catching Fire: The Model That Burned Brightest 168

Professionally, Northeastern University was a solid base, and people there

non-earth-defending mortals, many of these Space Invader champions, Pac

Just as societal demographic changes were beginning to manifest in the

middle-class backgrounds (or in my case, because I grew up in the United

How Did We Get Here?

The primary takeaway lesson is that for the twenty-first-century student

academia. Having previously addressed the low-hanging fruits of design con-

Despite t hese clear conclusions, a degree of inertia persists within academia

Self-efficacy, a central element of cognitive science, describes the belief in

Educational gamification, accentuating and embracing the visceral elements

There are still distinct factions u

Defining Game Elements or Getting to Gameful Design

• Mechanics—the procedures and rules of the game. The goal of the

courses. As suggested above, a number of elements already may be built in—

1. How are principles of gamification / gameful design incorporated into

nation building—an iterative process beginning with a theoretical statement,

Employ Narrative Elements

How do we get students to read and properly process academic courses?

In identifying the key gamification elements of his MOOC experiment, Yee

(62.5%) commented on the Easter eggs. Eight of these 10 comments were

problems with the Easter eggs. Still c an’t find them. W

(figure 6). Two-thirds (68%) of the respondents w

experience. The idea of co-creation of narrative to illustrate and frame con-

v iable element. In the UNH model, Elizabeth Assaf, a sophomore studying

Here is the description of the course as outlined for student participants:

By walking students through a logical thought process, it assists them in build-

A story-based approach to learning economic principles creates an educational

The UNH microeconomics journey, or EconJourney, involves a 12-step process

8. Facing the Ultimate Challenge—t ypically something w

• Students solve problems, answer questions, formulate questions of

Niman again quotes Prahalad and Ramaswamy, “Co-creation as a part of

Samantha-Jo Virga, a junior economics major at UNH, commented on the

Elizabeth Assaf, a sophomore who acted as pilot tester and “Storybuilder” on

co-creation to engender buy-in and mnemonic retention of information. Rec-

Given the low completion rates of online courses—particularly MOOCs—

students to care is . . . attractive. I’m hopeful that it w

• To enhance the overall work-integrated learning experience of co-op

In lectures, on campus, I started using i-clickers just to encourage attendance and