A Philosophical Happy Hour investigating the nature, significance, and importance of authentic play.
What does it mean to play? Though we are all acquainted with play from an early age, we might be hard-pressed nonetheless to define it. On the one hand, it seems something common to higher animals: not only our pets—dogs and cats—but so too wild animals—squirrels, raccoons, foxes and so on—engage in play. The voluntary exercise of energy results in an experience of pleasure. On the other hand, there appears something unique about the manner in which human beings play, insofar as it contributes in or detracts from our flourishing.
Most often, we contrast the term with “work”. Sometimes we seem also to contrast it with “leisure”—specifically as used in the more refined (and more original) sense discussed by Josef Pieper—inasmuch as we might emphasize that leisure is not “mere play”. What then, is play?
We might think through the question by means of examples, all of which seem to fall into two categories: games and story-building. Often, there seems desire to bring these two together in our experience of play..
Playing Games: Tension and Resolution
Chess, monopoly, basketball, Madden NFL 25, backgammon, backyard catch, poker, dice, Street Fighter, Jiu-Jitsu. What do these have in common? A wide gulf stands between athletic grappling and a game of backgammon, and little seems the same between chess and a game of catch. Yet all are games, at least, of a sort (or can be “played”). Each has an objective and rules—whether simple (“catch and try to make catchable the ball”) or complex (as in American football).
In each case, the constraint of rules by which one moves towards the objective constitutes a tension. Completion of the game consists in resolution of that tension. How in the case of a game, however, does this differ from any other objective-oriented activity we undertake? Why, for that matter, does competition so often extricate these games from the realm of play?
Shared Intention: Signifying through Play
Story-building, contrariwise, seems an activity both less clearly-defined or circumscribed by rules (or even objectives), and yet constitutes, perhaps, an even-more-pure form of play. For one, though there exist story-telling competitions, it is not intrinsically competitive. Moreover, there exists greater room for creativity. Athletes may be creative, but only within the rules. Story-building often entails creating the rules themselves.
Thus, we practice story-building from an early age: playing with blocks, action figures, dolls, in creative writing, etc. Vibrant imaginations may layer the sensed world with rich creative significance.
But we also enjoy stories crafted by others, as a certain form of play in which we might participate. Though enjoyable, this may be a negative in two very distinct ways: 1) through obsessions by which the fictitious universe begins to crowd out awareness of the real; and 2) the atrophy of one’s own creative imagination through outsourcing to “professionals”. A curious development, perhaps not yet sufficiently recognized, in the constitution of “play” has been the advent of the role-playing genre of game. Such a game invites its participants to build stories as they play the game. Far beyond their table-top origins, RPG elements now diffuse themselves throughout video games. Often, this results in a participation of story-building that is merely illusory. The player “feels” as though he or she is contributing something, but such occurs only within the rules by which the game was designed..
Ritual and Religion: Importance of Play
This illusory nature of creativity in much play, perhaps, suggests something important about the possibilities of play, as potentially authentic or inauthentic. Here, we draw on the classic text by Johan Huizinga, Homo Ludens: A Study in the Play-Element of Culture. Huizinga posits that, most essentially, play transports the player to “another world”. Huizinga claims a close similarity between the rituals of religion and those of play. As he writes:
We found that one of the most important characteristics of play was its spatial separation from ordinary life. A closed space is marked out for it, either materially or ideally, hedged off from the everyday surroundings. Inside this space the play proceeds, inside it the rules obtain. Now, the marking out of some sacred spot is also the primary characteristic of every sacred act. This requirement of isolation for ritual, including magic and law, is much more than merely spatial and temporal. Nearly all rites of consecration and initiation entail a certain artificial seclusion for the performers and those to be initiated. Whenever it is a question of taking a vow or being received into an Order or confraternity, or of oaths and secret societies, in one way or another, there’s always such a delimitation of room for play. The magician, the augur, the sacrifice begins his work by circumscribing the sacred space. Sacrament and mystery presuppose a hallowed spot.
Huizinga goes on to claim that there exists no formal distinction between the marking out of a space for play and that of the sacred. Does this denigrate the sacred? Or does it elevate play? Is it true? Or has Huizinga made a mistake about one or the other form of activity? What differentiates play from worship?
Authentic Conversation
This Wednesday (23 April 2025 from 5:45–7:15+ PM ET) our Philosophical Happy Hour will play with these questions and concepts to strive for a more authentic understanding of human nature! Open to the public, links below.
philosophical happy hour
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Come join us for drinks (adult or otherwise) and a meaningful conversation. Open to the public! Held every Wednesday from 5:45–7:15pm ET.
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