Metrics provide a social shortcut, making unusual passions (like yo-yoing) immediately understandable and legitimate to outsiders. This desire to be easily understood is a powerful, seductive reason we are drawn to quantifiable systems, even if they oversimplify our experiences.
Game engagement isn't just about winning ('achievement play'). It's often about 'striving play,' where the goal is a tool to generate a compelling experience of struggle. In this mindset, a player can be intensely competitive during the game but ultimately values whether the struggle was interesting, not whether they won.
Instead of imposing metrics, allow stakeholders (like students) to design their own evaluation systems. The process is often more valuable than the final system itself, as it forces critical thinking about purpose, values, and systems dynamics, leading to greater engagement, buy-in, and learning.
Activities like fly fishing show how a game's rules provide a tangible structure for focus. This 'scaffolding' helps us achieve deep attentional states, like flow, that are nearly impossible to attain by simply willing ourselves to focus. The game provides a tangible thread to follow into a subtle mental state.
We often replace complex, nuanced values (e.g., a child's quality of learning) with simple, easily measured proxies (e.g., screen time). This "value capture" occurs not from malice, but because we outsource judgment to what is convenient for technology or institutions to measure at scale.
Well-intentioned metrics often have a predictable lifecycle. At first, their brute simplicity exposes bias and inefficiency, as with NYC police metrics. Over time, people learn to optimize for the metric itself (e.g., discouraging crime reports to boost closure rates), draining the system of its original value.