Final Fantasy and Philosophy: The Ultimate Walkthrough (10 page)

Interestingly, although the protagonists of the solo
Final Fantasy
games are generally abysmal failures by Hobbes’s standards, the player-characters of
Final Fantasy XI Online
usually live lives that Hobbes would highly approve of.
Final Fantasy XI Online
is a MMORPG, a Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game, a shared virtual world where players take on the roles of adventuring characters, often cooperating to meet common goals. Like player-characters in most MMORPGs, they work hard to increase their personal wealth and power, gathering loot and gils and advancing in levels through experience. Even Monks aren’t above demanding that they get their fair share of the treasure. Whereas the protagonists of solo
Final Fantasy
games are generally dedicated to helping the world, player-characters in
Final Fantasy XI Online
seem generally dedicated to mugging monsters for the experience and treasure. It is true, Hobbes did say that it was only reasonable to avoid danger, but the player-characters are never really in terrible danger. They must surely know that death is not permanent in their world and that at worst, it means a trip back to their home point and the loss of a little experience.

You might think that I’m being too cynical about the characters’ motives here. After all, even if they do seek treasure, they are frequently engaging in missions and quests that will help other people. Player-characters can be found doing things like helping bakers light their ovens, finding medicine to cure sick travelers, rescuing adventurers held captive by the Sahagin, and, of course, slaying lots of monsters that are plaguing people. Might not such activities indicate something of an altruistic streak? Maybe. It all depends on whether the character is doing it to build a reputation or doing it for the sake of helping others, and only the player knows that. Of course, not all quest-givers are equally in need of saving. If player-characters are as quick to help Professor Koru-Moru find an ancient alchemical text to satisfy his curiosity as they are to help poor Maloquedil get some garlic so that he isn’t killed by vampires, then it would be hard to take protestations of altruism seriously. If player-characters are just as eager to help the cat burglar Nanhaa Migho fence stolen goods, we should be safe in concluding that they quest because of what they can gain from questing, a motivation that Hobbes would approve of wholeheartedly.

Even more revealing is what the missions and the quests accepted by a character tell us about the character’s relationship with the authorities. National missions are taken on behalf of the authorities, so even when they require the player-character to bend the law a little, such as on an espionage mission, the character is still acting in obedience to the state. Some missions on behalf of national authorities, however, are undertaken in defiance of even higher authorities. For instance, the Windurst minister Ajido-Marujido requires the player-characters to engage in missions behind the back of his superior, the Star Sybil, a violation so serious that she is willing to kill him for it. Some quests even require the player-character to engage in good old-fashioned, greed-motivated crime. For example, the quest “A Job for the Consortium” requires one to smuggle illegal Brugaire goods into Jeuno, while the quest “A Moral Manifest?” requires one to help the thief Hooknox steal treasure from the Yagudo family vaults. Characters who refuse to take quests that break the rules might be considered by Hobbes to be acting reasonably. As for the rest, which I think is the vast majority of player-characters, Hobbes would be horrified at their lawless ways.

Before moving on from Hobbes, let’s have a look at what he would say about the
players
of the online game.
Final Fantasy XI Online
gives the players unprecedented freedom (for a
Final Fantasy
game) to do whatever they want, and because their actions can have an impact on other real human beings playing in the same virtual world, there are very real moral choices for the players to make. Are the players acting strictly in accordance with self-interest in their interactions with other humans, unmoved by anything except what they can get out of people? Some of them are. There are players online who wouldn’t spare a second to help a noob under any circumstances, players who will claim but not kill a Notorious Monster in order to make it respawn at a more convenient time, players who will try to block access to a Notorious Monster unless a toll is paid, even players who will engage in price-fixing at the auction houses. On the other hand, there are players who will take the time to patiently explain features to new players, even when the new players have to be told repeatedly before they get it. There are players who will wander through low-level areas with their high-level characters, just in case anyone needs to be saved from monsters. There are even players who, on rare occasions, will simply give items to strangers to help them out. In virtual environments, as in real ones, some people are motivated by self-interest and some are not.

Another thing that people do in virtual, as well as real, environments is break the rules. In the context of
Final Fantasy XI Online
, the “monarch” and ultimate authority is the Square Enix corporation, which owns
Final Fantasy.
The official
Final Fantasy XI Online
Web site keeps a record of accounts that have been banned by Square Enix for violations of the rules, such as “griefing” (playing a game simply to harass other players), the use of third-party tools, or making real money from goods or services provided within the game. Hobbes would conclude that the owners of such accounts were acting immorally and contrary to their own self-interests in breaking the “law,” and they got what was coming to them. After all, when people decide to play
Final Fantasy XI Online
, they enter into a contract, agreeing (by clicking “I agree” on the user agreement) to submit to the rules laid down by Square Enix. All players give up certain freedoms, such as the freedom to grief people or to fight with other player-characters, for the common good, Not every player likes every rule or judgment call, but they all pay their monthly subscription fee to play in a world where everyone must abide by the rules. Once the social contract has been entered into, Hobbes would think that it makes no sense to live outside the rules and bring the wrath of the authorities down on your head.

John Stuart Mill Rides the Chocobo

Something bothers me. I think it’s your way of life. You don’t get paid. You don’t get praised. Yet, you still risk your lives and continue on your journey. Seeing that makes me . . . it just makes me think about my life.

—Reeve Tuisti, Final Fantasy VII

John Stuart Mill had a radically different take on the sort of life a human being should live, and he would see the characters and the players of
Final Fantasy
games very differently. Mill was of the opinion that we should act in whatever way will produce the best consequences for as many people as possible. More specifically, we should live in whatever way will best promote happiness and combat unhappiness. All pleasure is good in itself, but some pleasures are more valuable than others, not because of how intense or pleasurable they are but because they are of a finer quality. In particular, pleasures of the mind, the cultural and intellectual pleasures that engage our mental faculties, are more valuable than sensual pleasures and other pleasures that do not tax our intellects. So, for example, the pleasure to be gained from reading great poetry or studying philosophy is superior to the pleasure to be gained from food, sex, or games of chance. Mill labeled the more valuable, intellectual pleasures “higher pleasures” and the less valuable, nonintellectual pleasures “lower pleasures.” So, in the context of
Final Fantasy
, studying magic to learn the secrets of the universe would count as a higher pleasure, while munching roast Chocobo, hunting Antlions, or simply enjoying the thrill of combat would be only lower pleasures.

Mill’s view, with its emphasis on pleasure, might at first sound like a selfish one. On closer examination, however, it turns out that the best sort of life in this model is unselfish in the extreme. Mill thought that nobody’s happiness or unhappiness is more important than anyone else’s. This means that we shouldn’t choose to make ourselves happy if we can instead bring
more
happiness to someone else. So, for example, let’s imagine that you have saved up just enough money to buy the new
Final Fantasy
game. Buying the game is a worthwhile use of your money because it will bring you pleasure, but because you could more effectively bring happiness to the world by giving the money to someone in desperate poverty, it would be a much better use of your money to give it away. Unless our lives are truly horrid, we can almost always increase the happiness of others more effectively than we can increase our own, and so we should almost always be directing our efforts toward the well-being of other people. Naturally, all of this would apply within the gameworlds of
Final Fantasy
, too. It will rarely be right for characters to do something for themselves, whether it is buying a new sword, seeking an old flame, or simply standing and admiring the scenery in Windurst Woods. After all, given the number of people who need rescuing in the typical
Final Fantasy
world, there is always something else the character could be doing that would bring more happiness into the world. If Mill’s philosophy interests you, have a look at his book
Utilitarianism
.
⁴

Though Hobbes would have judged the protagonists of the solo
Final Fantasy
games to be miserable failures, Mill would consider them shining examples of the way human beings should live their lives. The very altruism that Hobbes would condemn would earn only praise from Mill. After all, if we should always act in order to bring about the greatest happiness and relieve the most suffering, we can’t go about it much more effectively than by saving the world. It is true, the heroes of
Final Fantasy
games sometimes have powerful personal feelings of guilt, depression, bitterness, or angst (Cecil Harvey, Cloud Strife, and Basch fon Rosenburg, just for example). It is true that heroes of
Final Fantasy
adventures always have to endure tough adventures with few comforts, adventures in which they suffer injury or even death. It is also true that an adventurer’s life usually leaves little time for the intellectual “higher” pleasures that Mill values so much. We are not to treat our own happiness as more important than anyone else’s, however, and the good these Heroes do seems to far outweigh any personal suffering they might go through. Cloud Strife may spend too much time obsessing darkly about his mysterious past, but he saves an entire planet from being enslaved by Sephiroth. Mill wouldn’t even care whether Cloud’s motivation is to save himself or take revenge, rather than to bring happiness to people. All that concerns Mill is whether the consequence of Cloud’s actions is a happier world. So, too, for all of the other protagonists, the bottom line is that planets are returned to balance, wars are stopped, and evil tyrants are overthrown, much to the benefit of people in general.

Determining what Mill would say about the player-characters of
Final Fantasy XI Online
is a trickier matter. The first thing to note is that almost all of the characters compulsively undertake quests and missions, and most of the quests and missions require their helping people. As already noted, certain grayer quests involve stealing or smuggling, but on the whole, the life of an adventurer seems to be a life spent making the world a happier place. It may well be that the
reason
the characters undertake the quests isn’t that they want to help people, but that it is the most effective route for personal advancement. Mill wouldn’t care. All that matters is the fact that they make the world a happier place.
⁵

Of course, undertaking missions and quests isn’t the only way to advance in the world. One alternative is simply to hit the wilderness and start “grinding,” slaughtering any monster you can find for treasure and experience. Sometimes it is plausible that this grinding is helping the people of Vana’diel. For example, it seems likely that clearing Giant Grubs from the vicinity of the town of Bastok is to the benefit of the Humes and the Galka who live there. On the other hand, sometimes it seems that the grind represents pointless animal cruelty, rather than a positive social contribution. One can slaughter the dinosaurlike Sarumugue Skinks of Aragoneu, but the poor animals, though fierce, don’t seem to be doing a lot of harm except to the bats they prey on. More problematic yet, the many races of beastmen that the characters carve their way through seem to have a good claim on being people themselves. If Humes, Elvaan, Galka, Mithra, and Tarutaru all count as people, and I think it is clear that they are supposed to, then the same should presumably go for races like the Gigas, the Mindflayers, the Orcs, the Tonberries, and the Yagudo. If these beastmen are people, then their happiness will be as important as anyone else’s for Mill, and killing them simply for experience and loot would have to be one of the most evil things anyone could do. Even if they are mere animals, he would think that their suffering is a bad thing and something to be avoided. The player-characters might enjoy the hunt and the thrill of combat, but it is hard to believe that their pleasure is so intense that it outweighs the suffering of those they kill and any that the friends or the families of their victims might have.

Finally, there are some activities that player-characters indulge in that do not advance them in the world or help others or harm others or serve any practical purpose at all. Sometimes player-characters, like we real folk, simply fool around and have fun. The most iconic example must surely be the Chocobo races. The Chocobo Racing Association has branches in every hometown where player-characters put the Chocobos they have raised to the test or just stand and enjoy the show. There are a few gils to be earned for the owners, but the low rate of return compared to that of adventuring makes it clear that the point of the sport is simply sport. The same can be said of clamming, virtual tourism, and, unless it is undertaken on an industrial scale, gardening. Other hobbies and crafts that are profitable in principle are often casually pottered around with in a manner that has more to do with recreation than serious business. Such frivolity may not be particularly commendable in Mill’s model, given the more important things that the character could be doing and the fact that none of the previous activities seem intellectual enough to qualify as higher pleasures. On the other hand, neither are these hobbies a waste of time. The mere fact that they bring fun means that the activity has some genuine value. That’s good news for those of us in the real world who spend time playing video games.