It's PMQs -- the video game

A turn-based battle with odd-looking men . . . has been turned into a game.

PMQs

You might have heard people saying that politicians treat Prime Minister's Questions like a game. Now, you can, too! Mark Richards of Pixel Politics has created PMQs, a text adventure where you duel with competing wild accusations and attempts to blame the previous administration. It even features the dulcet tones of John Bercow.

What's your day job?

I don't have a day job. I'm a graduate seeking employment. PMQs is part of what I'm doing at the moment as work on my portfolio; I'm hoping eventually to get a job in the games industry.

How did you get into games design?

I must have been about 14 when I decided to start designing games. That was when I began to play games with stories and characters that the player could really invest in. I didn't decide it was the career for me, however, whether independently or in the mainstream industry, until I started loathing my degree about a year ago. I talk about what inspired me to start developing adventure-driven games using Adventure Game Studio (the engine PMQs was built with) in an article I wrote for A Hardy Developer's Journal.

What was the idea behind PMQs: the Game?

The idea came directly out of what I was doing with Pixel Politics. I had really enjoyed doing retro video game-style caricatures of political figures and, one day, it just occurred to me that Prime Minister's Questions is a real-life turned based battle, like those bits from the old Pokemon games. The game also happened not to be the straightforward, easy-to-script adventure game format I was used to, so it provided a nice challenge in terms of coding.

How long did it take to make?

It is pretty difficult to pin down how long it took before I was developing it in fits and starts during my final year at university. I suppose it took a few months, maybe. It was a relatively short project.

What were your influences?

As I've already mentioned, definitely "those bits from the old Pokemon games". The HP bars are a mix of all the role-playing games I have played with a hint of fighting games like Street Fighter. The biggest influence, though, of course, is politics. I am obsessed with the drama and image side of politics and Prime Minister's Questions embodies all of that perfectly. I suppose it wouldn't be inaccurate to say I made the game just to use the line "I lead my party; he follows his!"

What do you think of PMQs -- valuable democratic check or juvenile shouting match?

This has been the most-discussed issue since I released the game and, funnily enough, I did not intend for it to be. I made the game purely because Prime Minister's Questions could be squashed nicely into a standard game mechanic and I thought I could make it quite funny.

As a direct response, I would say this: I admit the pantomime of it all is silly and the Prime Minister and leader of the opposition do end up exchanging scripted insults but Prime Minister's Questions is a very important part of holding a government to account in the public eye for a couple of reasons. First, the PM has to be fully briefed for the event and this means he knows what's going on in his own government. Second, it gets all the parties in one room to face each other on the issues of that time and, most importantly, their differences are made public. At least then they are not able to pretend the other does not exist.

As the for the shouting-match issue: the Commons is a small room, so it must be pretty terrifying. Surely the PM should be terrified at his weekly public trial, rather than relaxed?

Are there any other political games out there people might not be aware of?

There are a few but I would be lying if I said I had played them all. Politics-based games hardly occupy a saturated market and people should certainly make more of them.

What's next for you?

I do have another political game planned out but next on the list is a short, quirky platform game. Hopefully, I will be using the release of that to launch my indie games studio, for which I have had the logos and blog prepared and sitting around for a while, now. It will be nice to get that up and running and to have all my projects under one banner. Oh yeah, sorting a job out would be great, too. One can hope!

You can download PMQs here.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

Photo: Getty
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Sean Spicer's Emmys love-in shows how little those with power fear Donald Trump

There's tolerance for Trump and his minions from those who have little to lose from his presidency.

He actually did it. Sean Spicer managed to fritter away any residual fondness anyone had for him (see here, as predicted), by not having the dignity to slip away quietly from public life and instead trying to write off his tenure under Trump as some big joke.

At yesterday’s Emmys, as a chaser to host Stephen Colbert’s jokes about Donald Trump, Sean Spicer rolled onto the stage on his SNL parody podium and declared, “This will be the largest audience to witness an Emmys, period.” Get it? Because the former communications director lied about the Trump inauguration crowd being the largest in history? Hilarious! What is he like? You can’t take him anywhere without him dropping a lie about a grave political matter and insulting the gravity of the moment and the intelligence of the American people and the world. 

Celebs gasped when they saw him come out. The audience rolled in the aisles. I bet the organisers were thrilled. We got a real live enabler, folks!

It is a soul-crushing sign of the times that obvious things need to be constantly re-stated, but re-state them we must, as every day we wake up and another little bit of horror has been prettified with some TV make-up, or flattering glossy magazine profile lighting.

Spicer upheld Trump's lies and dissimulations for months. He repeatedly bullied journalists and promoted White House values of misogyny, racism, and unabashed dishonesty. The fact that he was clearly bad at his job and not slick enough to execute it with polished mendacity doesn't mean he didn't have a choice. Just because he was a joke doesn't mean he's funny.

And yet here we are. The pictures of Spicer's grotesque glee at the Emmy after-party suggested a person who actually can't quite believe it. His face has written upon it the relief and ecstasy of someone who has just realised that not only has he got away with it, he seems to have been rewarded for it.

And it doesn't stop there. The rehabilitation of Sean Spicer doesn't only get to be some high class clown, popping out of the wedding cake on a motorised podium delivering one liners. He also gets invited to Harvard to be a fellow. He gets intellectual gravitas and a social profile.

This isn’t just a moment we roll our eyes at and dismiss as Hollywood japes. Spicer’s celebration gives us a glimpse into post-Trump life. Prepare for not only utter impunity, but a fete.

We don’t even need to look as far as Spicer, Steve Bannon’s normalisation didn’t even wait until he left the White House. We were subjected to so many profiles and breathless fascinations with the dark lord that by the time he left, he was almost banal. Just your run of the mill bar room bore white supremacist who is on talk show Charlie Rose and already hitting the lucrative speaker’s circuit.

You can almost understand and resign yourself to Harvard’s courting of Spicer; it is after all, the seat of the establishment, where this year’s freshman intake is one third legacy, and where Jared Kushner literally paid to play, but Hollywood? The liberal progressive Hollywood that took against Trump from the start? There is something more sinister, more revealing going here. 

The truth is, despite the pearl clutching, there is a great deal of relative tolerance for Trump because power resides in the hands of those who have little to lose from a Trump presidency. There are not enough who are genuinely threatened by him – women, people of colour, immigrants, populating the halls of decision making, to bring the requisite and proportional sense of anger that would have been in the room when the suggestion to “hear me out, Sean Spicer, on SNL’s motorised podium” was made.

Stephen Colbert is woke enough to make a joke at Bill Maher’s use of the N-word, but not so much that he refused to share a stage with Spicer, who worked at the white supremacy head office.

This is the performative half-wokeness of the enablers who smugly have the optics of political correctness down, but never really internalised its values. The awkward knot at the heart of the Trump calamity is that of casual liberal complicity. The elephant in the room is the fact that the country is a most imperfect democracy, where people voted for Trump but the skew of power and capital in society, towards the male and the white and the immune, elevated him to the candidacy in the first place.

Yes he had the money, but throw in some star quality and a bit of novelty, and you’re all set. In a way what really is working against Hillary Clinton’s book tour, where some are constantly asking that she just go away, is that she’s old hat and kind of boring in a world where attention spans are the length of another ridiculous Trump tweet.

Preaching the merits of competence and centrism in a pantsuit? Yawn. You’re competing for attention with a White House that is a revolving door of volatile man-children. Trump just retweeted a video mock up where he knocks you over with a golf ball, Hillary. What have you got to say about that? Bet you haven’t got a nifty Vaclav Havel quote to cover this political badinage.

This is how Trump continues to hold the political culture of the country hostage, by being ultra-present and yet also totally irrelevant to the more prosaic business of nation building. It is a hack that goes to the heart of, as Hillary's new book puts it, What Happened.

The Trump phenomenon is hardwired into the American DNA. Once your name becomes recognisable you’re a Name. Once you’ve done a thing you are a Thing. It doesn’t matter what you’re known for or what you’ve done.

It is the utter complacency of the establishment and its pathetic default setting that is in thrall to any mediocre male who, down to a combination of privilege and happenstance, ended up with some media profile. That is the currency that got Trump into the White House, and it is the currency that will keep him there. As Spicer’s Emmy celebration proves, What Happened is still happening.