“Time to head home,” Main said to Kasi. “But don’t you worry, girl. We’ve got a standing date set for tomorrow.”
54.
NIGHT TRAPPED
“Mortal Kombat?” Bill Andresen asked his son. “What’s that?”
“It’s the best game ever,” Chris Andresen replied very matter-of-factly.
They were in the kitchen, having a family dinner, and Andresen looked to his wife to see if she might have any idea what in the world their son was talking about.
“It’s a videogame,” she said. “He talks about it all the time.”
“Because it’s the best game ever,” Chris Andresen repeated. “And it shows why Sega crushes Nintendo.” Mortal Monday had come and gone and, as Kalinske had hoped, Sega annihilated Nintendo. Mortal Kombat on the Genesis outsold the SNES version and, in the process, Sega had finally, impossibly, and amazingly surpassed Nintendo. They now had 55 percent of the market, but more important than the numbers were conversations like these, where nine-year-olds were convinced that Sega was now king.
Andresen nodded. He liked the idea of buying his son a videogame. Decades ago, he used to really enjoy playing in the arcades, and he fondly remembered when his wife had first introduced him to Atari’s home version of Pong. “Okay. I’ll look into it.”
In the coming days, Andresen looked into this Mortal Kombat and was appalled by what he found. It’s not as if he expected it to be anything like Pong, but this game was just incredibly inappropriate—the violence, the blood, the glorification of cruelty . . . And Mortal Kombat was just the first clue about what was really going on with videogames. There was one called Street Fighter and another called Streets of Rage, and those weren’t nearly as bad as the newest ones coming out on CD, like Night Trap and Sewer Shark.
After this brief personal journey into the world that his son apparently adored, Andresen decided to share these findings with his boss: Senator Joseph Lieberman, a Democrat from Connecticut.
As it turned out, Lieberman was just as appalled as Andresen, his chief of staff, who went on to explain that in addition to this horrific Mortal Kombat, there were plenty of other, similar games out there. “Look, Senator,” Andresen reasoned, “I realize that some people might call our reaction here prudish, but that’s not really the point. These games are becoming more and more like movies, and I can’t help but wonder if parents have any idea what they’re buying for their kids.”
This conversation and their mutual concern led Lieberman and Andresen to delve further into the matter. Although they weren’t the only ones in Washington sniffing around this issue, they quickly became the most serious about getting the government involved. But before taking any action, they needed to better understand what exactly was going on. And to do so, they looked to the top of the industry and found the two companies most responsible for what was going on: Sega and Nintendo.
Perrin Kaplan, who had worked on Capitol Hill prior to joining Nintendo, still had contacts in D.C., and was informed about what was going on. This was much more than Arthur Pober talking about whispers; these were distinct conversations going on in the shadows. And this made Kaplan intent on educating Senator Lieberman about what Nintendo did. So she invited him to come visit Redmond. Kaplan expertly worked to assuage any doubts he had about making the trip west, and any lingering concerns were likely erased by Senator Slade Gorton of Washington, who had worked with Nintendo on the Mariners deal and was also a close friend of Senator Lieberman. Once the plans were made, Lieberman and members of his staff visited NOA headquarters and got a crash course on Nintendo and the kinds of games that the company produced. Kaplan talked about how Nintendo had resurrected the industry through meticulous quality control, how NOA vigorously vetted (and sometimes censored) its games to ensure a wholesome quality, and how Mortal Kombat was a great example of the difference between Nintendo and its primary competitor. This was not a slight on Sega, but merely the facts, and Senator Lieberman appreciated the information enough to roll up his sleeves, pick up a controller, and spend some time trying out the Super Nintendo.
After returning to D.C., Senator Lieberman gave the issue further consideration. On November 17, 1993, he distributed the following letter to members of Congress:
Dear Colleague:
A woman is stalked in her home, mutilated and murdered. A man is instructed to “finish” his opponent in a martial arts contest and chooses to rip his opponents still beating heart out of her body. These examples may sound like shocking cases stemming from the current epidemic of violence plaguing the United States. In fact, they are witnessed by children every day. Worse, children participate, since these examples are drawn from some of the most popular and most disturbing of a new generation of video games.
Gone are the days when video games were just Pac-Man and other quaint characters. Advances in technology permit the latest video games to use real actors and actresses to depict murder, mutilation and disfigurement in an extremely graphic manner. And the technology is rapidly becoming ever more realistic. Today’s graphic games may seem mild compared to the CD-ROM and virtual reality systems, which will change the market very soon. These games will come right into our living rooms if a pilot cable channel for video games slated to begin next January proves successful. At a time when real violence is threatening to tear the fabric of our country, these games glorify the most depraved acts of cruelty. While parents across the country are trying to teach their children to abhor violence, these games encourage children to enjoy violence. The Washington Post recently quoted a 14 year old boy on the appeal of one particularly disturbing video game: “It’s violent. It’s real. You can freeze the guy, cut him up, shoot him with a hook that has a rope so you can pull him. I like the moves and stuff.”
The video game industry has not addressed the danger presented by their latest creations. In fact, some have made violence a selling point. One game was introduced to great fanfare on “Mortal Monday.” Currently, parents have a very difficult time knowing which video games are slightly violent and which are truly repugnant. No uniform system exists for warning a concerned parent about the violent content of a video game, which she is buying for her child.
I plan to introduce legislation and hold a hearing on this topic. The legislation will create the National Independent Council for Entertainment in Video Devices (“NICEVID”), which would oversee a two stage response to the threat of joystick violence. The first stage is a one year window in which the Council will encourage and work with the video game industry to address the problem through voluntary means. If the industry fails to take credible steps within that one year period, the Council will be charged with mandating what type of information concerning the contents of a video game should be available when a person buys a video game. At that time, the Council will have the authority to consider a variety of responses, including establishing a mandatory rating system, warning labels explaining the content of the product, or point of sale warnings.
Today, more than a third of all American households have video game systems. Almost two-thirds of children between the ages of six and 14 play video games. Parents deserve to know what they are buying for their children. If you would like to cosponsor this legislation, please contact me or have your staff contact Sloan Walker of the Subcommittee on Regulation and Government Regulation at 224-3993.
Sincerely,
Joseph I. Lieberman
As Kalinske read these words, a brittle numbness set in. All the darkest thoughts he’d had over the past two years, those moments of doubt about himself, Sega, or the videogame business at large, were being held up to a mirror the size of the Washington Monument. His toy industry days really were behind him; the man who had once empowered children to imaginatively become Masters of the Universe would now be seen as a peddler of smut, the drug pusher who gets children hooked. The first one’s free, kiddies; that’s why we put Sonic in the box.
Wait a minute. No. Those were just the doubts creeping in again, a
variant on the universal doubts that all humans are prone to have when the sky blocks out the stars. Am I worthy of success? Am I the beneficiary of luck, misconceptions, and the work of others? Have I been a good husband, father, and friend? The letter on Kalinske’s desk preyed upon his worst fears, but Senator Lieberman’s words didn’t magically turn doubts into facts. Well, here were the facts:
• Eighty percent of Sega’s players were older than twelve years old.
• Sega was the first (and only) company to institute a ratings system, which had successfully been in place since July.
• Over 90 percent of the titles released for Sega’s system were rated GA, for general audiences.
• Sega worked with Scholastic, the teacher-trusted publisher, to create a widely distributed brochure aimed at educating parents about videogames.
• On Sega’s own initiative, it established a charitable foundation targeted at giving our youth a better society. In only two years, the foundation had already raised $4.3 million.
• If Sega was guilty, then so was Nintendo.
After considering this last fact, Kalinske decided to write a letter to Nintendo of America’s man behind the curtain, and on November 22, 1993, he sent the following:
Dear Mr. Arakawa:
Though we have never had the occasion to meet, I believe recent developments merit this attempt to open a dialogue with you.
As you know, our companies embrace different approaches to handling fighting games and adult-appropriate interactive entertainment. I think the time has come for a comprehensive industry-wide approach to the issue of informing consumers about our products so they can make intelligent purchase decisions. In short, I think it is necessary for our nascent industry to grapple with, and for you and I to proactively lead, that industry to a uniform, responsible solution to this issue, one of which we all can be proud.
As the leading companies in the video game category of the larger interactive media and entertainment industry, you and I can forge a bond of personal commitment to doing what is right for all involved—insuring free choice and enabling people to control what comes into their own homes.
I am urging you in the strongest possible way, and with the greatest respect, to join us at Sega—and the scores of independent software companies who make software for both Nintendo’s and Sega’s hardware platforms—in adopting the Sega rating system administered by the independent Videogame Rating Council (VRC) which is composed of highly respected PhD’s from a variety of disciplines, or to adopt some other similar rating systems and to communicate it on your new products.
You know, as do I, that your company creates and/or permits marketing of software titles for your game systems that portray a level of violence as great as anything in the industry. In fact, the PhD’s of education, childhood development, psychology, and sociology on our own VRC tell us any game where the objective is to demolish enemies through martial arts or weapons should be designated for an audience over thirteen years of age (no matter if animated blood is included or not). Nintendo’s game development guidelines are an inadequate way: 1) to insure consumer’s freedom of choice, 2) to enable consumers to gain enough information that would allow them to exert control over the types of software titles brought into their homes, and 3) to guarantee they are always appropriate for the age of the user in that home.
I know you must appreciate that your guidelines were probably appropriate for this business when it was less sophisticated, and when over three-quarters of the user base was under 17 years old—in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Now, when our technology is so much more sophisticated, and increasingly attractive to adult audiences, it seems to me an industry-wide rating system is the type of responsible self-regulation you and your company should join us in adopting.
I am sure that we could find sponsors in our government’s legislative branch who would assist us in getting an anti-trust exemption to collaborate on this matter if that is a concern that is inhibiting your positive response to this entreaty.
Mr. Arakawa, I ask you to please, with an open mind, consider this suggestion and to consider the benefit we all gain by doing the right thing for the consumers—adults and children—who have been so generous in rewarding both our companies with such great success during the last decade.
Attached is additional information on the Sega rating system.
Sincerely,
Thomas J. Kalinske
One thought that raced through Howard Lincoln’s mind as he read through Tom Kalinske’s letter: boo-hoo. If it weren’t for Sega, none of this would be happening! You don’t get to stand on the shoulders of Nintendo while trying to climb up the mountain and then ask Nintendo for help when it’s time to climb back down. Boo-hoo—that said it all, but it didn’t make for a particularly tactful response. Nor did shredding Kalinske’s letter into confetti and sending it back to Sega.
Following Senator Lieberman’s call to action, strong support in Washington had led to a series of Senate subcommittee hearings slated to begin on December 9. Lincoln would be attending the hearings on behalf of Nintendo, and Kalinske would likely be there to represent Sega. Lincoln and Arakawa believed that the hearings would be the appropriate time to reply to the issues voiced in Kalinske’s letter, and so they opted to focus on preparing for that and not waste time becoming Sega’s new pen pal.
Although they didn’t write back to Kalinske, there was a Nintendo mailing that indirectly amounted to something of a reply—one that accomplished the take-that sensation of a confetti party but remained elegant and tactful while also serving a purpose. When the drama had first started to unfold in Washington, D.C., Perrin Kaplan had made a VHS tape containing the most graphic scenes from Sega’s Night Trap, a graphic, grisly game that was unlike anything Nintendo would ever offer to its customers. And to demonstrate the difference between the two companies, Kaplan arranged for several hundred copies of these tapes to be sent to representatives in Washington prior to the hearings. If the videogame industry was about to be sent in front of a firing squad, then she wanted to at least make sure the riflemen knew where they should be aiming.
55.
IT’S JUST WINDY . . .
NOT A METAPHOR
At forty-eight feet tall and twenty-six feet wide, Sonic The Hedgehog soared through the sky. Swiftly and serenely, Sega’s beloved mascot made his way through the chaos of Manhattan, the newest larger-than-life balloon in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade through a deal struck by Tom Abramson.
“Where is he?” Ashley Kalinske asked from the window of a building downtown.
“Yeah,” Nicole Kalinske added, eager to see her dad’s friend Sonic.
“He’s coming,” Tom Kalinske told his daughters, “and he can’t wait to see you. But in the meantime, don’t forget to stuff your faces with food.” Behind the window, in the room full of retailers, merchandisers, and other friends of Sega, was a wonderful buffet that added an exclamation mark to the occasion. It had been a hectic past few weeks, what with preparing for the Senate hearings and the media storm that would inevitably follow, but Thanksgiving offered a nice chance to take step back and enjoy Sega’s success with his family. Kalinske had flown out to New York with his wife and kids a day earlier, enjoyed a quick romp around the Big Apple, and ended the day by taking his girls over to Central Park West, where they got to see the balloons being blown up outside the Museum of Natural History.
“Is that him?” Nicole asked, ignoring the table full of cookies.
“No, it’s just Clifford the Big Red Dog,” Ashley said, disappointed.
Kalinske put his arms around the girls and was about to remind them not to worry, but at that moment he was informed that there was an urgent phone call from Brenda Lynch that required his attention. He excused himself and walked over to the reception area to take the call. “Is everything okay?” he asked right off the bat, but of course it was not.
Apparently Sonic’s incredible aerodynamics had backfired, and a vicious gust of w
ind had rammed him right into a lamppost at West 58th Street and Broadway. Because of the balloon’s size and velocity, a light fixture had fallen and hit an off-duty Suffolk County police captain named Joseph D. Kistinger. The medics on hand believed that he had broken his shoulder and were about to rush him to the hospital.
“Is this a joke?” Kalinske asked incredulously, glancing at his daughters stationed by the window.
“No, I’m sorry,” Lynch said. “It’s just windy, that’s all. Bad luck for us.”
Maybe it really was just bad luck, something to laugh about a few years down the line, but in the moment it felt like something more than that. Fate? Karma? Metaphorical proof of a company in decline? To the outside world, decline would have been the last word to describe Sega. After the release of Mortal Kombat, Sega had pulled past Nintendo and was hotter than ever. Kalinske, of course, was thrilled by this, but ever since SOJ had thwarted the potential deals with Sony and SGI, he’d started to notice cracks in the foundation. Little things, usually, but things that he hadn’t paid much attention to before. For example, Rioux had been pushing harder than ever for permission to manufacture hardware in North America. It would be cheaper this way, and save time on shipping, but SOJ would not allow it. They manufactured all of the hardware; that’s just how it was. At this point, however, the cultural differences with SOJ were to be expected, but it was an unexpected incident that had him most concerned.
Console Wars Page 55
