The Avatar and the Gamer
A massive multyplayer role game
Maybe someone still doesn't know what an online multiplayer role-playing game is (MMORPG: Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game): it is an adventure in which the player creates on the computer his own character (avatar) who participates in the game interacting (and fighting) with the avatars of thousands of other players engaged in the same game. Through a system of rewards, the avatars gain points that are used to level them up, increasing certain characteristics or giving them new resources, and can discover objects that improve their offensive and defensive abilities. Other online games, such as Second Life, despite being multiplayer, are not role-playing in a strict sense, as the interactions between the avatars are limited to social activities and chatting exchanges. The success of this genre of games is due to the fact that, in some aspects, they imitate real life conditions and situations: the most interesting element is represented by the presence and interaction of a plurality of players, each with their operational autonomy, so in the course of the game there is always a surprise factor, and it is possible to enter into alliances and pursue common goals, as well as to confront in a competitive way, up to fighting each other, alone or in a group.
Moreover, each player creates their own avatar, in the initial phase of the game, giving it some features that differentiate it, to some extent, from the others, and as the game goes on, the avatar is further developed on the basis of the player's decisions, assuming more and more an autonomous and differentiated personality, as far as possible, with respect to the avatars of the other gamers. This process implies that the avatar can show both some typical characteristics of the player in real life, as well as some features that the players do not have, but that they would like to have: not infrequently, for example, the avatar's gender is different from that of its gamer. It is evident that the fundamental element of these multiplayer games is the program, which makes possible everything that can happen in the course of the game, and prevents the development of those effects that sometimes the gamers would like to get. The program is developed and updated by a team of programmers, who can take into account the wishes and proposals of the gamers, insofar as the development manager believes that these suggestions can contribute to the game's success. We have thus identified the key figures involved in the development of these games: the Programmer, the Gamer and the Avatar.
After these premises, I now want to propose a mental game based on intelligence and intuition, in which everyone can freely take part, coming to the conclusions that will seem more convincing, more interesting and, why not, more fascinating: this game consists in comparing human life – considered as real – with an MMOG, to verify what is similar and what is substantially different. It is clear that if the MMOGs of the various genres are very successful, given that the global number of players in the world is hundreds of millions, this depends on the fact that the gamer's psyche feels attracted by the possibility of engaging, through an avatar, in a virtual reality that shows more advantageous aspects of novelty and opportunities than the daily reality of human life, otherwise one would not see the reason why some people should invest their time and mental energies in an activity of this kind. So I begin to examine some aspects of the topic that seem to me particularly stimulating from a mental point of view.
The role of the Programmer
The programmer has a fundamental role in the operational application of the choices and possibilities decided by the game developer. Usually, in MMOGs there is a team of developers who work in close collaboration with a team of programmers, but from the player's point of view we can consider the programmer as a unitary figure – even if formed by a plurality of people – since only what has actually been translated into the program has an effect on the functioning of the game. In computer games, both the programmer and the gamer are humans: in most cases the gamers do not have the knowledge and information necessary to understand the program, but nothing prevents them, if they want, from acquiring through study a sufficient competence to decipher various aspects of the program, if they manage to overcome the possible blocks that could prevent a program's clearly reading. Like any other specialized activity, even that of the programmer requires a long training, but it is anyway within the reach of any person gifted with enough logical-mathematical intelligence. A player who is also a skilled programmer can insert in the game, taking advantage of the gaps present in the program, alien elements that spread online, in contrast with the will of the programmers: a process similar to that of the viruses that can infect our computers.
In real life, instead, humans – whose role as avatars or gamers we will try to better decipher in a while – cannot be considered at the same level as programmers, since the natural game of evolution of life on Earth far precedes, over time, the development of human consciousness and intelligence necessary to translate into knowledge a part – a minimal part – of the programmatic factors on the basis of which the process developed. Only recently have humans begun to acquire elements of information on some aspects of the program, interpreting them on the basis of their intellectual resources and using them in function of what they consider their interests or advantages, as individuals or societies. Although the acquisition of elements of knowledge by humans leads to creative actions that interfere with the program, modifying some aspects of it, the lack of direct communication with unknown programmers does not allow humans to know how the program will react to their actions: human activities can lead to the creation of weapons of mass destruction, to substantial alterations in environmental conditions or to the accelerated consumption of non-renewable resources, and there is always the possibility that the program will react by eliminating a substantial part of humanity. Just in these days the spread of the covid virus is drastically changing the living conditions of billions of people.
The fact that programmers remain unknown means that humans can attribute all sorts of powers and intentions to them, or even deny their same existence: however the program exists, and we move within it, making choices and acting to the extent that we are allowed, for the limited time of our life. In fact, one of the fundamental aspects of the program is constituted by time, by its unilaterally flowing in one direction, and by the temporary existence of each avatar – as a living organism – within the program. Although the program is too complex for an avatar to understand it, an avatar can acquire – due to the fact that is immersed in the program – a certain amount of information that reveals some aspects of it, which can be interpreted – as we will see – in the light of the gamer's resources. Obviously, in the event that each avatar – none excluded – were nothing more than a product of the program, limited to its temporariness and destined to be removed and replaced by new avatars after interpreting its role, we would be faced with an unfathomable dynamic, of which only some unknown programmers could possibly know the meaning and purpose.
Our identification with the Avatar
In an MMOG the conscious subject – the one who makes decisions and acts on the keyboard and the mouse – is always the gamer, with respect to whom the avatar is a character created through the program, which allows the gamers to interact with the virtual world, with others characters played by the program's artificial intelligence, or with the avatars of other players. Players know that behind each avatar met by their own, beyond its appearance, clothing and behavior, other gamers in flesh and blood act, whose appearance and whose real personality remain unknown, unless the gamer wants to meet them in real life. In human life, instead, the avatar is our body, which is created in accordance with the rules established by the program, with or without the conscious intent of other avatars (the parents) already active. The new avatar, just born, is weak and defenseless, and its growth and development depend on the environment in which it is bred and the care it receives from other avatars. Over time, consciousness arises and develops, and the avatar begins to act intentionally, in the sense that certain behaviors and actions are prefigured and conceived in their mind which, implemented through the body, should produce – or attempt to produce – the expected results. The success or failure of these actions may then involve an emotional reward or punishment, according to the program's rules. We would be tempted, at this point, to identify the body with the avatar and the mind with the gamer, but things are more complex and enigmatic.
In a role-playing game, gamers create the avatars and give them some characteristics of their choice: the initial possibilities are the same for everyone, and the program offers each player the opportunity to customize their avatar according to their preferences, giving each player the same set of opportunities offered to other players. In real life things are not like that at all: avatars are born and develop in very different environmental conditions, the same physical requirements differentiate one avatar from another, including the mental computer (the brain) and the programs that are transmitted to it by the cultural system in which the avatar is brought up. This means that the mental functioning – which determines the evaluation of circumstances, the arising of desires and emotions, and the same choices that are made and translated into actions – is normally intrinsic to the avatar, and can differ, even in a very pronounced way, from one avatar to another. Thus the avatar – who can also identify with the gamer, as nothing prevents them from doing so – turns out to be actually a product of the program, without the gamer's role being assumed by a figure distinct from the same program.
MMOG players have an autonomy with respect to the avatars through which they act in the game's virtual world, and also have their own consciousness and a life distinct from that of the avatars, who – always within the program in which they virtually act – can even die. Therefore, if we want to imagine the existence of a figure similar to that of the gamer also in real life, we must give up our complete identification with the avatar, in order to look in the consciousness of the latter for any traces that could lead to an alien influence, independent from the program of life. In fact, as long as the conscious Ego fully identifies with the avatar by which its experiences of human life are lived, it is not possible to recognize the existence of any external figure temporarily involved in that singular game in which the avatar is a character. In a role-playing game the avatar is in itself inert, unconscious, incapable of decision-making and action choices: it is a puppet whose threads are moved by the program or by the player. In real life, on the other hand, avatars interact directly with the program, introducing new programming elements that modify it.
Looking for the Gamer
The program at the base of the game of life can be interpreted as a kind of collective hallucination, variable in time and space – based on the changes that occur in the socio-cultural systems of which the individual avatars become part – as had been already suggested by Mary Rose Barrington (1926-2020), lawyer and parapsychologist, President of the Oxford University SPR and Vice-President of the SPR since 1995, in her book Talking about Psychical Research (2019). The mind of each avatar is influenced by the other minds with which it comes into contact, consciously or unconsciously (and sometimes even telepathically), developing individual features – different for each of us – which manifest themselves in behavior, creative processing and inner self-perception by the conscious Ego. Over the years, in the course of this life cycle, the individual mind, after reaching a maximum of efficiency, begins a progressive decline, until it completely turns off. The effects of this dynamic process are experienced by the conscious Ego, but only to the extent that it is allowed by the functioning of the mind itself. In fact, these effects – as perceptual, intellectual, emotional and sentimental dynamics – are affected by the characteristics and resources of the mind, due to how it formed and developed in its cultural environment, and how it changed in consequence of life experiences.
A reflection of the Gamer can be seen in that part of ourselves that observes the behavior and functioning of the avatar and, by studying the various aspects of this process, tries to reach an understanding of some dynamics of the program. The essential points of these dynamics are constituted by the temporal existence of the avatar – conditioned by its inclusion within the program – and by the transformations that the avatar and its mind undergo in the course of human life. It could be said that the Gamer examines from the outside, independently, what the avatar lives as an experience conditioned and limited by the program. The Gamer can also actively intervene, determining some aspects of the avatar's action and its own way of functioning: these interventions can be intuited by the avatar's consciousness, even if its mind – as a rule – is unable to tune into that of the Gamer. In fact, being inserted into the program from the early stages of its formation, the avatar's mind is invaded by a huge amount of psychic elements, taken from those that have accumulated and stratified in the program during the various phases of its evolution. With respect to this disordered and confused radiation, the control and – if we prefer – the defense capabilities of the mind are limited, and depend on certain characteristics (which could also be genetic, in relation to the development and resources of the brain) that can not be determined by the avatar.
In MMOGs the gamers, while identifying more or less intensely with their avatars, are aware of their own autonomous existence, and know that life continues even when they exit the game and turn the computer off. Indeed, if they are not completely addicted to the game, they do not hesitate to recognize the existence of a real life distinct from the virtual one. Furthermore, however much they identify with their avatars, especially in the interaction with other avatars, the gamers trust in their own consciousness and intellect, because they know that the avatar, left to itself, is devoid of both: the avatar exists and acts only if it is animated by the gamer. In real life, however, the situation is more complex: it is as if there was a player inside the avatar (the conscious Ego inside the brain), inextricably connected to it, who participates in the game (that is, interacts with the program) based on its conscious inner experience; but there are also behaviors and actions of the body (and the mind) which escape the control of the conscious Ego, and which depend on the functioning of the body and the brain as a reaction to certain events determined by the program. In fact, as previously mentioned, the body, the brain, and most of the mental programs that determine our behavior and actions are produced by the program.
It may happen, however, that as the game progresses, the player senses or perceives the existence of an external figure, a Gamer, who shows a certain interest in the game, but whose existence is not limited to that of the avatar. Here I would like to open a brief parenthesis, to explain that when we play a certain computer game, we do it because that game captures – for one reason or another – our interest. It can also happen that a game disappoints us, because it does not correspond to our expectations, and at that point we stop playing it and dedicate ourselves to something else; or, in some cases, that we insist on playing until we end it, even if we don't like it, because we feel compelled to do so. In real life too things are more or less in these terms: every the conscious Ego – as the game of its life goes on – can give an evaluation of the interest that this game arouses in it, with regard to its own expectations. But while in a computer game the gamer can cut off the game to do something else – possibly starting another game that seems more interesting to him – in this life the Gamer, as a separate entity, could also take no interest in the game, without getting worried in the least, while the player, bound to its own organism, can stop playing only by eliminating the avatar he/she identifies with: more or less, that's what suicides do.
The interest in the game of life usually fades over time, in old age, when the deteriorating conditions of the avatar make the mental elaboration of new experiences more difficult, and the amount of experiences already assimilated depletes the available resources of neural circuits. Old age brings a sort of tiredness towards life, which can result in a lucid detachment as long as the mind still works well enough: otherwise it ends up in the mists of one of the various forms of progressive senile dementia. Obviously, many people will object that life is not a game, but a trial, a commitment, a school based on dedication, solidarity and a spirit of sacrifice: all of this can certainly be true, but it falls within the scope of the program, and involves the player and the avatar. Our intent, however, was to compare computer games with real life, to identify analogies and differences. If we go in search of the Gamer also with regard to real life, we must necessarily identify a figure distinct from the program, who feels an interest in the game, possibly also for what the game can teach him. Even a computer game can put players to trial, forcing them to make choices, to adopt strategies, and in some cases to solve rather complex puzzles. In addition, players may be interested in evaluating how the game program was developed, in relation to the possibilities that are offered to them and the stimuli that keep their interest in the game alive.
If we want to give the Gamers an independent existence, we must also recognize them the freedom to express a judgment on the experience of life, free from the condition of subordination to the rules and the needs of the program in which their avatars find themselves. The limits to which avatars are subject are given – as I've already said – by the duration of human life, the physical and mental resources they have and by variations to which these resources are subject with the passing of time. In the game of life, as long as the players completely identify with the avatars, they will remain subject to all the constraints imposed by the program, and will passively accept all the cultural conditionings that ensnare their minds, convincing them of the fact that their existence is limited to that of their avatar, without which their conscious Ego is forever lost. It may be that the Gamers accept these conditions of the game because they make the experience of life more intense, but it may also be that they care little about a game in which their possibilities of intervention are limited, to the point of not even being recognized as independent reference figures.
If we buy a computer game – or we pay to take part in it – it is because we think (or hope) that that game can be interesting and stimulating for us. If the game is given to us as a gift, we play to try it and to see if we like it and we are interested in it. We would hardly be willing to play a game we don't like and that we think is ugly and badly programmed (unless our job is to review computer games!). The conditions of human life are such that not infrequently, as players bound to our avatar, we do not feel at all satisfied with the way the game is played and has been programmed. Thus, all sorts of strange ideas and theories were created, and some also became a part of the program, with the aim of giving us account of the right reasons why we were put into this world and we must live this life: in most cases it is mere propaganda! But, beyond our point of view of small players, involved in a game even too crowded and with insufficient resources for everybody, it would be interesting to know what our Gamers, who often seem to abandon us to our destiny, regardless of our fate in a game that maybe bores them, think about it. For this purpose it is necessary that the players, freeing themselves from the complete identification with their avatars, be able to establish a contact with the Gamers.
Who is the Gamer?
Many clues have been given on this site that suggest that the existence of the Gamer is possible, if not even probable. In considering the experience of human life, we started from the intellectual and cognitive resources available to the conscious Ego – considered as our main subject – to immediately have to take into account the plurality of the Egos, and the fragmentation of the human psyche in a vast range of mental experiences of which each conscious Ego experiences only a small part in its life. The psychophysical resources of which a human being is endowed, the environment in which each of us is born and brought up and the environmental conditions in which our life takes place, are as many aspects of the program that determines the destiny of each of us on this planet. Since the choices made by each avatar-player are determined by the intellectual and volitional resources available to them (and therefore by their psychophysical features) and by the environmental and socio-cultural conditions in which they find themselves, the whole vital process can be considered in the context of development of the program itself, and each player-avatar represents only a temporal fragment produced by the program. Anyway, this is nothing more than a mental interpretation of a reality that remains enigmatic for us.
The Gamer is not the conscious Ego of the avatar-player, but can make its existence perceived by the conscious Ego: one often has the impression that the Gamer is not very involved in a game that easily becomes boring and repetitive, or that it is more committed to discovering some aspects of the program than to keep alive an avatar in which, after all, he has a relative interest. The inner experiences of the conscious Ego often show the clues of psychic conflicts resulting from the Gamer's dissatisfaction with the program that determines the various aspects of human life. Sometimes the Gamer's interest is stimulated by some particular aspects of the program, which induce it to defend the existence of the avatar as far as possible, to continue investigating the functioning of the program, but the deterioration of the avatar's resources – which occurs with the passing of time – causes the involvement of the Gamer to decrease more and more: in the end, it may only show a residual interest in the experience of death. The Gamer, in fact, has its own autonomous and distinct existence not only with respect to that of the avatar-player, but also to the same program on which human life is based, a program to which the avatar-player is instead bound.
The Gamer also acts within a wide program, in which, however, it can move independently and freely, experiencing the effects of its decisions. It may be that human life is a subroutine in which the Gamer was involved almost by chance: something that it activated more or less consciously – perhaps by taking something similar to a drug – so determining a trance state in which the experience of human life (or rather: of one human life) is achieved around the figure of a player-avatar enclosed in the subroutine, isolated and forgetful of the Gamer's existence. Thus, as long as the Gamer does not wake up, human life remains for it as a more or less pleasant or dark dream, the development of which is beyond its conscious control. But if the Gamer is not completely asleep, it will be able to exert a partial control over the dream, trying to send the avatar some signs indicative of its existence. From the influence of the Gamer on our nervous system can arise that feeling of longing-nostalgia, , which some humans intensely perceive, for a form of freedom that is precluded to us in this life.
I hope nobody at this point demands an experimental demonstration of the existence of the Gamer, or thinks that these mental elaborations claim to be what they are not, that is, an irrefutable proof of something. I want to remind you that we started from an experiment consisting of comparing the key figures involved in an MMOG with the possible parallel figures involved in the experience of human life, to highlight similarities and differences. But some irrefutable facts must be kept in mind: for example, the time limits of the player-avatar life, the progressive loss of their resources in the final part of life experience, the program's features that determine so many individual fragmented experiences, so different and often in conflict with each other. These facts give rise to mental elaborations, some of which are then assimilated within the program, which thus increases its operational complexity in function of a goal whose knowledge is precluded to us: every effect produced by the program derives from the fact that the player-avatar, once created by the program itself, either improves its position according to the rules set by the program, or worsens it, until it deteriorates and is destroyed. But even those who improve (at least apparently) their condition, are destined to be eliminated in the final part of life, or even before, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly and painfully. So, in any case, the condition of each human being is managed by the program, and the overall results are there for all to see, as they are reported in our times' chronicles and in historical documents.
In general, the desire to be happy, to live a satisfying life and to improve one's condition is natural in every human being whose mental functioning is regular – even if mental anomalies are still determined by what we consider program errors – however intentions are not enough to determine the results: today, as in the past, the experience of each individual life is random, and it is not possible to exchange the experience of our own life with that of another person. It is therefore not even possible to really compare different life experiences, since each conscious Ego is bound to the experience of its own life. If we consider the game of life from the player-avatar point of view, none of us knows the reason why we are involved in this game, and many players are fascinated by this puzzle, to solve which they resort to one or the other mental elaboration suggested by the psyche. But only by exiting the game, thus freeing ourselves from the program that regulates every aspect of it, it will be possible to rise from the reduced perspective of the player-avatar to the wider and autonomous vision of the Gamer. The Gamer, in fact, in its dimension not conditioned by time, has a truly existing Ego, while the player-avatar, subject to the transformations determined by time, is a temporary personality whose traces will be erased by time, no matter how important he/she may have been in this life.
The experience of the life game
So let's imagine that the Gamer exists, in a different dimension from ours, and that at the end of life our conscious Ego, up to that moment bound to the player-avatar, moves into the Gamer's consciousness, without worrying about how this could happen. What effect does this attitude have on our mind, as long as our avatar is involved in the experience of human life? It is not easy to find an answer to this question, precisely because, being immersed – and, we could say, imprisoned – in this life game, we seek the answers among those proposed to us by our human mind, which manifests itself in its singular individual appearance. Each of us can ask themselves this question, and then wait for an answer: it is as if time remained suspended, while around us life continues to flow, until we come back again with our feet on the ground, in our ordinary state conditioned by its needs and recalls. In these conditions, everyone is bound by their own individual experience, more or less standardized, and for the majority of currently living humans, the figure of the Gamer remains distant, absent and alien, while the player-avatar is the only perceived reality.
But just as there is not a unique standard model of player-avatar, there is probably not a unique model of Gamer. The standard models are socio-cultural creations that aim to produce the necessary conditionings for a mass of people to behave in a sufficiently homogeneous way, but the reality of life always admits exceptions, starting from the functioning of the psychophysical system: almost all of us, for example, are committed to protecting the existence of our avatar, but there are people who are not afraid of risking their lives, or anyhow control this fear much better than others. It can also be observed how young children can easily perform actions that endanger their lives. Even the fear of taking actions that may have penal consequences, while being effective in most people, does not prevent habitual criminals from acting to the detriment of others, and in certain circumstances it does not work even in people who would not normally commit a crime. Obviously, the program allows for all the variety of human behaviors that can be found in the reality of life.
Our conscious Ego, immersed in this reality precisely as a player-avatar, can then ask itself what induced the Gamer to take part in a game that presents various interesting and fascinating aspects, but also others that are decidedly stupid, not evolved, painful and demeaning. A first superficial answer could be given by the observation that, since in the dish there is a tasty and sweet meal next to another disgusting and indigestible, the smart Gamer will try to separate one from the other, tasting only the morsels of the good one. However, it must be acknowledged that the avatar of some other Gamer will then be forced to eat the rotten one! And here comes a first distinction between those who focus only on their individual experience, and those who take into account the whole range of the various human experiences. Besides, most humans will have a mix of tasty and bitter morsels, in varying proportions, and everyone will be able to assess – as far as they are concerned – if, all in all, the juice is worth the squeeze.
But in this way we make the Gamer's evaluations coincide with those of the avatar-player, and this could be a mistake. Strange as it may seem, the Gamer could even be interested in those aspects of life that are indigestible and heavy to endure for our conscious Ego, while other aspects that seem pleasant to us could leave it indifferent: it is in fact the reaction of our mind to determine what we like and what disturbs us. This really strange situation is difficult to be accepted for the conscious Ego, reduced indeed – at this point – to the role of an avatar which the Gamer seems to care very little of. Is it possible that the Gamer, in its dimension and condition of existence, is not aware of the difficulties in which the conscious Ego finds itself during life? And if the Gamer knows the condition of the conscious Ego, why doesn't intervene to help it during the game? The answer could be that the program prevents a direct intervention by the Gamer who, once the game has started, can only take initiatives through its avatar, if it manages to subtract it from the conditionings by which the program controls it. The existence of the game's rules shifts the interest of the conscious Ego to the possible reasons that led the Gamer to participate – through an avatar – in the game of human life.
The conscious Ego, that is, the player-avatar, first of all wonders why it is normally so difficult to perceive the existence of the Gamer and establish a communication with it. It is just as if the Gamer does not want to directly take part in the game, letting the avatar-player get with it by itself: at most, the Gamer occasionally interacts with the avatar-player's mind, influencing some choices, without the latter being able to recognize whether what they do is determined by their character and the conditionings received, or by the Gamer's influence. It should not be forgotten, in fact, that the avatar is still a product of the program. Regarding this condition, often conflicting, I refer once again to the page on the Alien spirit. The fact is that our current culture, in its tendency to trace every psychic event to the brain functioning – conscious or unconscious – does not help the avatar-player to recognize and perceive the Gamer's existence. On the other hand, a concept like that of the soul, for instance, is too contaminated by obsolete connotations linked to outdated religious legacies, to be accepted by our intellect. It then remains to be seen whether the Gamer connected to our avatar does not actually remain inactive while we live our life – allowing everything to proceed according to the program – because it is asleep, as in a trance state, or because it is no more interested in the game, and so having to take care of the avatar is boring for it.
On the other hand, precisely in this historical age in which humanity as a whole produces ever greater quantities of people destined to coexist on this planet, we can also ask ourselves whether a Gamer must necessarily be linked to every avatar-player. In fact, to carry on in one way or another the life of the player-avatar, perhaps interrupting it abruptly even ahead of time, the program is already sufficient. And certainly no interventions by skilled and smart Gamers are needed to ensure that a life is carried on in precarious conditions, between hardship and troubles: the program is already sufficient in itself to manage every possible situation that occurs in life, even if – from the point of view of the conscious Ego – this happens, as we use to say, for better or for worse. We must therefore consider, among the various options that concern the Gamer's condition, also the one that considers it as obliged to take part in the game of life by a higher level programmatic decision: it may be that this obligation is accepted by the Gamer, which – so to speak – by signing it gives its consent, or which is imposed on it by a power from which it cannot escape.
These are not sterile metaphysical speculations, as someone might think: it is true that, today, metaphysics usually tends to be frowned upon, but it is also true that – unless someone wants to reduce the meaning of life to the mere experience of their transitory individual player-avatar – the various communications obtained via mediumism often reflect alternative psychic attunements which our reasoning intellect is inclined to confront. This aspect is also part of the game of life, and the interest of a certain category of Gamers is stimulated precisely by the search for clues that can lead to a solution, at least partial, of the enigma of the conscious life of the player-avatar. The condition of existence of the player-avatar inside the game poses the problem, precisely because the players can test themselves in the search for a solution. It is therefore possible that consciousness transfers from the Gamer to the avatar-player, in order to experience the conditions of the game from within the program, to then return to the Gamer's dimension once the avatar has been eliminated. Even in this case, however, we should take into account the great diversity of personal experiences determined by the individual destinies of life: what could it be attributed to? and what role would the Gamer's level of experience play in determining the initial conditions and subsequent developments of its avatar's participation in the game?
In fact, if for a certain number of us life can be considered a game, perhaps even difficult and demanding, but all in all interesting and engaging, for other people life can be transformed into a path of pain, from which it is even difficult to wake up. And we would not be able to say whether the risk of having such an experience depends exclusively on the features of the program, or also on the inadequate resources of the Gamer. However, we can say that, when the player-avatar manages to connect with the Gamer, and the Gamer manages to take full control of its avatar, the conditions completely change, and in any circumstances the Gamer is free to decide to withdraw from the game, if it is not satisfied with the conditions imposed by the program or if it cannot find any suitable solution for its resources. It is not, in this case, a form of suicide committed in more or less desperate conditions by the player-avatar, overwhelmed by the negative conditions that the program imposes on it, but by a free and lucid choice of the Gamer, which maintains its conscious autonomy from the game and the program that controls its different aspects, and – by giving up playing – defends its intelligence and freedom, also on the basis of the knowledge acquired within a game which, in any case, establish a temporary duration of the avatar's life.
Thus end these reflections on the analogies and differences between multiplayer role-playing games and real life: the latter is still an interesting and engaging experience, provided it is played in conditions appropriate to the resources and needs of a Gamer which is reflected in the features of an avatar-player created by the program itself, with all the limits and errors that this kind of creation can entail. The comparison between the virtual reality of a computer game and the reality of human life cannot go beyond the limits imposed by the obvious differences between them. However, the enigmatic conditions presented by the various aspects of human life can constitute a stimulus towards the search for the identity of a Gamer which is not as heavily conditioned by the program as the player-avatar is, and is free both to take part in the game and to withdraw from it, on the basis of the interest, involvement and evolutionary progress that the game's conditions arouse in it.