The Halo III Personality Model
How Reflecting on Childhood Gaming Helped Me See Character
I have always had some trouble with introspection, not because I don’t observe myself or wonder about my eccentricities — of which I have many — but because I simply do not possess the ability to easily recognize the character differences between one person and another.
Personality is a blind spot for me. Yes, I can see that some people are more outgoing and others are more reserved, but that’s basically the breadth of it. I know there are some people I feel more drawn to than others, but for what reason, I can’t possibly guess. One of my biggest anxieties in life is buying gifts for someone, because I can’t guess what they might like, even if I’ve known the person in question for years — or my whole life. I have studied Myers-Briggs, Enneagram, and other personality theories, but as far as I know, they are just that: theories. Guesses. How can anyone predict what another person might think or do in a certain situation? How can the complex interaction between the mind and heart be so plainly quantified?
When I was young, I used to play multiplayer Halo III against my siblings. Looking back now, some fifteen years of growth, research, and experience later, I can finally make out the unique characteristics of my siblings and myself in how we played this shooting video game: characteristics from our cores that we still bear, even all these years later.
My brother, the most experienced gamer of us, was businesslike and professional. He would find a sniper rifle, park himself in a spot where ammunition spawned so he’d have an endless supply, and pick us off time after time until we reached the maximum kill limit or the time limit, whatever we happened to be playing toward at the time. He was inevitably the winner most of the time.
My sister, bold and strategic, did whatever she could think of to outsmart him, coming at him from different vantage points, near or far, trying to sneak up from behind or ambush him while he was reloading. After all, that is how the game is played. While typically outclassed by him in the long run, she always managed a respectable kill count at the end.
Then there was me.
If you’ve played Halo III, I don’t know if you’ll remember, but there were these purple flying machines called Banshees. It’s guaranteed that if there is anything that flies in a game, I will utilize it. If memory serves, on any map that offered an outdoor battlefield, at least one Banshee was provided for players, alongside other vehicles (a jeep called a Warthog, and a hovering mini-Banshee called a Ghost). And, on any map that had both a Banshee and a building, such as a bunker or garrison, I was overcome with an insatiable curiosity.
You see, I just wanted to know… given a flying machine and a door apparently large enough to accommodate said flying machine…
I don’t know if my siblings had nearly as much fun playing Halo as I did, though I know my antics distracted them from shooting me at least momentarily as they tried to figure out what the heck I was doing. It’s all part of the plan —even if you’re sneaking around the darkened hallways prepped for a surprise encounter, the last thing you expect to see is a Banshee maneuvering awkwardly around the corner, guns blazing.
And I didn’t spend all my time testing the limits of the environment, though I can’t recall ever winning either.
Oh well. Whimsy over winning, I always say.
(I have literally never said that.)
