The Golden Circle of Games

For the past couple of years, I’ve been wrapping up my master’s degree at USC, and one of the highlights of that experience was my Narrative and Storytelling class with Professor Jay Clewis. Among the many projects I worked on, my favorite was the PechaKucha—a storytelling format that uses 20 slides, each automatically advancing every 20 seconds. It forces brevity, clarity, and a strong visual narrative.

Of course, my PechaKucha was about games. No surprise there. But I didn’t just want to talk about games—I wanted to make my PechaKucha a game itself. I wanted to prove a game could exist in an environment where a game didn’t seem possible. No dice. No board. No cards. Just imagination.

So, I challenged my audience to a quick round of Rock Paper Scissors. No setup, no explanation. Just an immediate entry into play. And that moment—that instant when someone decides to participate—is the heart of what I wanted to explore: Why do we play? How do games work? What makes them meaningful?

The Three Essentials of a Game

Through years of making games—starting with my crude, hand-drawn, cardboard creations in third grade—I’ve learned that games require only three things:

1. At least one willing participant

2. A goal

3. At least one rule to reach that goal

   
   

Rock Paper Scissors has all of these. It’s quick, it’s universally understood, and it throws you into the mindset of a game immediately. But more importantly, it introduces something deeper: the idea that games exist in our imagination first. Boards, dice, and tokens? They’re just tools. The real game happens in our minds.

The Golden Circle

What happened the moment we started playing? We entered what game designers call The Golden Circle. This is the shared imaginary world where we temporarily suspend reality and accept the rules of the game. It’s where competition is safe, fairness is crucial, and engagement is voluntary. It exists in board games, sports, and even casual play. You’re either in the circle, understanding and accepting the game’s rules, or you’re outside of it, watching in confusion like someone unfamiliar with a sport they’re seeing for the first time.

Fairness is critical to maintaining the Golden Circle. If I try to manipulate your choice—say, by subtly encouraging you to pick scissors—does that break the fairness of the game? If the game feels rigged, people reject it, and the circle collapses. This is why balancing rules and fairness is so essential in game design.

Why This Matters

Games teach us more than how to win or lose. They teach us how to engage, how to deal with frustration, and how to connect. The Golden Circle isn’t just a space for play—it’s a space for belonging. It even extends beyond individual games. Sports fandoms, gaming communities, and shared cultural references all create their own larger Golden Circles.

This idea is at the core of my journey in creating Average Joe Hero. I believe games have the power to connect people, to foster creativity, and to provide a space where we explore challenges together. Making games isn’t just about fun—it’s about bringing people into the Golden Circle.

And that’s why I keep making games. Because, at the end of the day, the real magic of a game isn’t in the mechanics or the pieces—it’s in the people who choose to play.