Finding Dasein in Immersive Tech: A Phenomenological Analysis of Silent Hill 3
Unused Essay Written for Existentialism Class
Technology is a complex presence in our lives, a mandated engagement by the material conditions of modern society. Immersive technologies which can become our sole sensory focus, such as phones, computers and the features which come attached with them, are often seen as standing in contrast to the experience of Dasein (Being-in-the-world). One cannot truly be in a world derivative of the natural world, one that can be left and is made by us. The ability to leave immersive tech prevents such, so existentialists, such as Heidegger, view it as a threat to Dasein. He believes it inhibits meditation, a sitting with one's body and mind, and disperses our tolerance and utilization of boredom and antiquated methodologies. An example of this would be our faculties for research and retention not being properly utilized by always having access to a search engine.
Nonetheless, I’m going to argue immersive tech, in some sectors, already succeeds at producing a new form of being, which Heidegger idealistically suggests possible, through transcending its status as Equipment to become a ready-at-hand-Being. Equipment, in Heidegger, is simply an object in the world with which we interact, which I feel is insufficient at capturing the extent immersive tech can shape our lives. I define Being as the ability to exist meaningfully and consciously in one’s environment. By ready-at-hand, I mean an object that serves as a natural extension to our ability to navigate the world. Ready-at-hand-Being is, thus, an object that serves as a natural extension to our capacity to meaningfully exist in our environment. I believe video games, digital text, social media and virtual reality, if effectively utilized, all are particularly functional at bringing us closer to Dasein, and will empirically evaluate the phenomenological successes of the game Silent Hill 3 to make this case.
The experience of playing Silent Hill 3 is split between two modes of play: exploration of the titular fog-shrouded town and its locales of urban decay, and surviving in the bloody, rusty Otherworld. The former segments promote the player to meditatively reflect on their role in this world by getting acquainted with the digital environment through puzzles, a map and exploration. The latter flip the environments on their heads, the same spaces becoming hostile and anxiety-inducing, jolting the player into a sympathetic state of heightened awareness. It is in tandem these two modes of play keenly train the player into a means of worldly engagement that transcends the 5-hour experience.
All aspects of the town of Silent Hill reflect the psychology and dreams of its protagonist, thus much of it's meaning lies behind Freudian abstractions. The calm, explorative sections give the player room to reflect on this semiotic intentionality, to wander through the fog occupied by your own curiosity. This reflection is rewarded with insights into the artistic intent and a better understanding of who you are and why you are in this nightmare. Applying Ready-at-hand-Being here, Silent Hill becomes a game of learning to meditate, to keep asking questions about the mysteries and abstractions of what it is to be. Aided by a hypnotic soundtrack and it's surreal sense of logic, Silent Hill creates the perfect environment for falling into it's meditative trance. I listen to its music on my walks and always find myself attentive to changes, to features of my daily paths that tend outside of my gaze and attention. There seems to be a purpose, a functionality to the world that reveals itself knowing it was crafted for a purpose. With Silent Hill, it’s to tell a story, but reality similarly bears an opaque abstraction in its setting, a slow rot of context or de-evolution of cultures, that becomes fascinating when we approach it this way.
Silent Hill 3 relies on an urban setting: primarily a theme park, hospital, office building, train station and mall. As an urbanite, these are familiar locales made abstract through their digitization and abandonment, yet I can fill them in through my own understanding of how these spaces operate. This is one reason I find Silent Hill 3 specifically incredibly successful in its immersion and horror. I can place myself in the protagonist’s shoes and be in this non-real place alongside her, unfurling it predictably and similarly shocked by its subversions.
The aestheticization and stylization of these locales has also informed my wanderlust through creating a desire to find my own accounts of these locales. Over the summer, I ventured together with a friend to seek out third spaces around our city: abandoned buildings, alleyways, dying malls. Being in them was divinely mundane, insightful non-happenings made thrilling by an aesthetic thirst. We’d stand in these spaces and have philosophical conversations, looking at the cultural entropy, reminiscing while making a mental painting of an everyday local. I was able to find serenity in the rust and detritus, how tussocks of grass cracked the pavement, due to how Silent Hill 3 acquainted me with its decay. To be, both in the game world and the physical world, within a space which no longer serves function, serves as a point of pause and as a means of getting acquainted with the ephemeral nature of the societal bustle.
Despite it's beauty, there is also unease in the unknown; the claustrophobic rooms, ambient groans and limited visibility. Through this the player is kept continually vigilant of their surroundings. With only a static map, the player must be attentive to signs pointing towards their objective. The environment rewards cautious observation with foreshadowing, side areas and extra supplies. In this way, every player is forced to navigate by sight, a rather antiquated practice for some, but one that, too, beckons detours. I’ve been programmed through video games to check every corner, to go every way but the right way, to assure I see it all. This, too, has been carried into my real-life practices. I tend to mentally map out the campus buildings by traversing every floor, experiment with subtly different paths every day and seek out scenic vistas for study spots. While many modern games show you exactly where you are and where to go, Silent Hill 3 doesn’t. It beckons you to get creative in moving about the town. This design practice has developed my natural curiosity for getting intimate with the intricacies of the world, for expanding my mental maps with no leaves unturned. It’s also instilled a work ethic, a resilience against the mundane task of knowing places you might never otherwise for insubstantial rewards. Silent Hill 3 demonstrates there is value given in treating your daily spaces with continual respect.
Most important to its phenomenological benefits, Silent Hill 3 deploys body horror and anxiety in a manner to shock the player into presence and sympathy. The game’s protagonist, Heather Mason, is a teenage girl whom several characters want to use as a vessel to birth a demon. As such, on the earlier point of psychology, the visuals of the Otherworld are reflective of the inherent fear and vulnerability in having a young woman's body and existing in a space with such. Her body is physically and sexually threatened simply by existing, and thus many of the game's monsters invoke dysmorphia, assault, menstruation and motherhood (as well as yonic/phallic symbolism). Through Silent Hill 3, I was forced to contend with this in relation to my own body, how unsafe and vigilant I often felt it necessary to be alone in unfamiliar public spaces. My fear was quantified and captured here, and I grew to more empathetically view my body in relation to others, the importance of being a non-threat while also keeping safe.
To Heidegger, Anxiety is a positive, jolting us into presence against all want to be present. The narrative arc of Silent Hill 3 not only contends with this topic, but the player, regardless of gender, is jolted into sympathetic vigilance and self-preservation against the threats of the world. Horror games like Silent Hill 3 make me incredibly paranoid, but they also give me hope that I, too, can claw my way out of the horrors of life I’ve unwillingly been thrown into. The Ready-at-hand-Being of Silent Hill 3 shocked me into my surroundings, keeping me attentive both to how others perceive me and how I perceive others. I take on the moral obligation of other’s safety and thus socially am constantly in reflection with fear and presence.
Here, I’ve empirically demonstrated the means by which immersive media, despite its appearances, can ultimately serve as Equipment by which we can better immerse ourselves in Dasein. Through the aesthetic, meditative and sympathetic framing of digital artworks, I posit that we can change our thinking to find value in the mundane, breathe new life into our surroundings and become more present and conscious of our bodies.