Games and their times

All classifications are arbitrary, but some are more useful than others (to paraphrase George Box).

When thinking about the origins of abstract games, I visualize three broad categories:

• Ancient/Traditional Games. These are games within the culture of a particular people or region. Their exact origins are often unknown; we only estimate their age by their first written references. These games usually lack a fixed rule set (if any), having several regional variations. It is often more accurate to think of them as families of related variants rather than single, fixed games.
• Old Games. These appeared after the commercialization of play. They were either published or patented by their creators. While variants of these games may exist, they generally arise due to the game's popularity and how players engage with their core ludemes.
• Modern Games. Most abstract games published online today fall into this category. Although their creators retain authorship, many have relinquished commercial rights, effectively placing these games in the public commons. Much like open-source software, they embody the spirit of freedom and collaboration that characterized the early internet. 
  

These categories are, of course, not rigid. There are still modern commercial abstract games (e.g., the GIPF project) and older games that were always intended to be public (e.g., Laska). However, I find these distinctions useful for understanding games in their historical context.

Even though the boundaries between these categories are not perfectly defined, it is possible to identify their temporal limits.

The era of old games began around the mid-19th century, when commercialization led to the emergence of the first game publishers. This period also saw the introduction of the patent system, which allowed some types of game rules and physical board designs to be removed from the public commons and be privately owned.

In my opinion, the era of modern games began with the rise of the video games industry, a transformation that took place between 1980 and 1990. This shift is particularly evident in board game magazines such as GAMES and Jeux et Stratégie, as well as in the game's sections of popular science magazines like Science et Vie. During this period, columns devoted to computer games gradually occupied more and more space. One consequence of this shift was the decline — and, in some cases, the disappearance — of these magazines in their original formats, as they struggled to compete with publications specialized in video games and software. Another outcome, in my view, was a decrease in the commercial value of abstract games. This reduced the pressures of commercialization and, coupled with the advent of the internet, opened the era of modern abstract games that continue to this day.

Most abstract game designers align with the era in which they live. Designers from the old era typically created commercial games — for example, Alex Randolph, Sid Sackson, Eric Solomon, and Robert Abbott. Meanwhile, modern designers tend to create games for the public domain, with early examples including Christian Freeling, Wayne Schmittberger, Fred Horn, and Ralph Betza.

However, there are exceptions. Some designers from the old era (approximately 1850–1980) adopted a modern, non-commercial approach to game design. Notable examples include V.R. Parton, Joseph Boyer, Martin Gardner, Sid Sackson (again!), and George Dekle. Conversely, some modern designers still produce commercial abstract games. Perhaps the most famous are Reiner Knizia and Kris Burm.

The commercialization of abstract games appears to be on the decline, even as the global board game market continues to thrive, with its popularity steadily increasing over the past twenty, thirty years. But every category remains alive today. Interestingly, traditional games still appear to be the strongest link. Cultural traditions are very resilient to change, with few dependencies that could threaten their continuity. It seems unlikely that Chess, Go, or Backgammon will lose their public in the medium, long term. In a way, this reflects the Lindy effect at work, with the longevity of traditional games correlating with their cultural significance and resiliency.

In contrast, commercial abstract games appear to be losing relevance, especially when compared to highly competitive industries like video games and social media. And modern games are deeply dependent on the free flow of communication — a privilege we must not take for granted in the decades to come.