Though it is an part of essay unto itself, a large proportion of my belief in what makes humans fundamentally “different” from the majority of the other species on the planet is our sense of self-awareness, particularly as that self-awareness relates to the observer within quantum phenomena. If observers are integral to the process of determining state, then a self-aware observer has a greater stake in observations than a passive one, particularly when the outcomes of said processes affect the observer. “Luck”, “Fate”, and other abstract characteristics we have used to describe the effect of quantum decision trees as they relate to a personal interpretation of the passage of time are all structured methods to help buttress the mind from the incomprehensible number of possibilities which surround us at any given moment of choice.
Recently I was chatting with
In any game which requires a referee, that referee should be the final voice, in accordance with the rules. If there is more than one referee, there is an established pecking order, which determines that you can’t have shenanigans like those depicted in The Naked Gun. Adding an electronic eye to this formula, so nobody can ever be “wrong”, to me, undermines that authority. Even in the case of a replay/review/challenge, the umpire retains the right to stand by their initial call, but only after someone has had a chance to undermine it.
This gripe is connected to a larger explanation, in my mind, of why humans like games. Every culture, on every continent, has games. Many of the most rudimentary games are connected on atomic levels across cultural or physical boundaries- games of chance, games of physical prowess, games of mental prowess – games which incorporate all three. Regardless of what kind of game you are talking about, you have endless microcosms of quantum decision trees in any given set of a game’s possible results or outcomes. Some games don’t have referees, some do. Some games have very strict rules, others have very lax ones. Winning is usually the goal, but, in some games, “winning” is simply a condition set which re-sets the game to its starting point, so another session can be played. From tic-tac-toe to go, shuffleboard to golf, kill-the-carrier to American football, you have one or more turning point moment where the game goes from being a statistical compilation challenge, to a chance of something amazing happening.
Some games require only participants, but a great number of games often involve an audience. This audience derives entertainment, or pleasure, in the act of _watching_ these sets of possibility break down. The US has several major industries built on this model. Hundreds of millions, if not billions of dollars, worldwide, depend on this model. Ultimately, though, what is at stake for the audience member?
In the US, we pay athletes grossly disproportionate salaries to their constructive addition to our species’ overall success in the race against extinction (which, on a fundamental level, is the motivating force behind procreative and diversifying efforts of life). Professional athletes participate in games at a level of performance which “the average person” would be hard press to come close to. In an ideologically-matched game set, the audience is watching something pretty boring. Keeping baseball as the example – imagine two equally matched teams offensively and defensively. It is a long, drawn out pitcher’s duel. Chance, or the sudden moment where a pitcher falters, would be the only chance for the offense to capitalize on an opportunity, and even that is not a guarantee for scoring, which is how you win the game. You know, the kind of game where they start running out of beer in the concession stands.
Some fans, admittedly, live for their teams, regardless of wins, losses, or overall performance. The remainder of fans live for these moments of chance. Audiences don’t pay to watch the ordinary – we pay to watch the moments where the ordinary is turned on its head by “professional” game players. By having an individual who plays the game devote as much time and energy as “professionals” do, the odds of seeing such an overturn on a regular basis increases. The audience, in my opinion, increases the possibility of these “odd” or “impossible” things from occurring. It is what the audience gives back to the players of a game. We pay high prices to watch players try and do the impossible. That is their profession. They are overseen by the umpires or referees, who make sure that the rules are followed, and make the tough calls, in moments of unclear outcome. The human error potential here adds to the possibility of the impossible occurring, usually (much to the referees’ chagrin) in the form of a “bad call” – where the referee arbitrates things in a manner which the instant replay, or the eyes of the audience, sees as “incorrect”.
When you mitigate the possibility of a “bad call”, you lessen the possibility of the impossible occurring. Countless rallies have been started, or crushed, by a controversial call at the right, or wrong time for an audience, or team’s morale. When you create an electronic factor that is, as the audience sees it, an infallible mediator, the chance of these rallies, or situations well outside the normal statistical curve of a team’s probable physical performance outcomes cease to be. What potential the audience may add is diminished, and, with it, goes many of the chances which can swing a boring eight innings into a ninth inning rout. You are introducing artificial scarcity into a system where it is already scarce enough!
Somewhere along the evolution of games into industries, marketing and advertising firms found new hosts to draw blood from. Captive crowds are now bombarded with visual marketing, but even less so than those watching an event electronically. A disproportionate amount of the instant replay decision, I fear, will be based on televised profits – regardless of what umbrella the sports-reporting media sells it under. This is about extra opportunities for networks to sell ad time, and extra opportunities for marketing departments to seek captive eyes.
As bad as all that is, the “replay experiment” is something that, in all probability, will never be reversed. There are entire coaching strategies in football now about time out/challenge use. It has fundamentally changed the way the game is run. Such a change is very difficult to step back from, short from a significant technological shortage. The “secondary” judges (aka referees) will still be there to make the calls, in such an unlikely situation, but, after a generation of isntant replay, how good will they be? If a referee’s preference, in a “tough call” situation is to review a reel, and no reels are there to be reviewed, how good will they be at making the hard calls, the impossible calls, and the calls which can change the face of a pivotal game or series?
Football is already pretty far gone, don’t take baseball too. Please?