3 Things Missing from the Nintendo Labo Discussion
For those of you just joining us after a prolonged bout of unconsciousness, let me get you up to speed.
Last week, Nintendo made a surprise anouncement of a set of peripheral-based games for their wildly popular video game system, the Nintendo Switch. The peripherals and games are being referred to collectively as Nintendo Labo. There is something like 6 confirmed contraptions including a musical keyboard, fishing pole, and robot suit.
Oh, and the peripherals are made out of cardboard which the player must assemble in conjunction with the Switch’s small detachable controllers and tablet-based console.
From my perspective, the internet promptly imploded. The Labo was discussed on almost every current-event, culture, or technology podcast I listen to. Yet, every conversation was essentially the same:
- Nintendo is crazy… like a fox, like a… childish fox…
- Cardboard!? Who ordered that?
- Cardboard is gonna break so fast WTF
- I don’t get how it works but I still want it.
- 4/20, $69 Nice.
After listening to this barrage of discussion and hype, I couldn’t help but notice a few things missing from the conversation. Some are insights that are pretty specific to my experience, while others are perhaps hot takes on the collective hot take. A spicy meta-take, if you will.
Cardboard is more versatile and durable than you’d think
I build a lot of stuff out of cardboard at my job. Some of it is functional, but a lot of it is what you could call experiential prototypes. Getting teachers and students to engage with design concepts often benefits from working with familiar materials and tools. Doing so strips away some apparent or subconscious barriers to understanding and encourages more tinkering and iteration.
Cardboard also has a pretty unique set of properties that allow for some impressive outcomes. You can cut, fold, wrap, insert, reinforce, and bend it with a few simple cuts. You can strap, hinge, and contour it with a bit of simple string or ribbon. In fact, when I conduct workshops on building Cardboard Exoskeletons (sound familiar, Nintendo?), I explicitly avoid providing tape because the adhesives generally can’t keep up with repeated motion or tension from many different directions.
So, every time I hear people bring up the durability issue, I mutter something disparaging under my breath and glance lovingly at the near complete set of cardboard body armor I’ve been trotting out for over a year. It still holds up, except for one rubber band that broke due to humidity.
Labo is Brilliant Prototyping AND a Finished Product
“Is Labo just Nintendo pawning off prototypes on a gullible and hungry audience?” Before I read the first hot take or listened to a 5 minute segment on a daily recap podcast, I knew this would be a point of debate.
Based solely on the promotional videos and images, Labo looks like a fairly polished experience. Nintendo isn’t generally known for releasing 1st party games that aren’t, especially in the wake of Super Mario Odyssey and Breath of the Wild. This idea that they would release a highly unique and risky product on the back of their record-breaking console for the sake of prototyping seems to hinge on one thing: it’s cardboard.
I would wager that if the Labo was somehow released at the same price point using only plastic molded enclosures, the conversation would be more about how it looks like a bunch of “tech-demos” and “proof of concept minigames” than a finished title. I don’t know if they did this on purpose, but presenting the experience in a cardboard package communicates an expectation. To illustrate what I mean, let’s take a look at this signage from the Exploratorium Tinkering Studio in San Francisco:
Do you see their “cardboard”? The staff in the Tinkering Studio are constantly prototyping new experiences with the public. Some visitors know and expect this, but as a world-class museum in a tourist heavy city, they need a way to indicate that not all experiences have gone through the same amount of polish. “We’re trying something new…” politely sets up a playful, exploratory environment where expectations are reasonable. You (and the staff) might be surprised with how well something works, but even if it doesn’t you might find yourself trying a bit harder to find out why.
Nintendo probably can’t say that they’re releasing a product that isn’t done. Again, I don’t think they are, but instead of stating it point blank, the cardboard enclosures communicate a similar set of expectations. It’s done, it’s just an inherently experimental approach to gaming.
So, if this is a finished product, why am I talking about it like it’s still a prototype? Nintendo has stepped out into new territory. Instead of dumping a bunch of plastic shells on their customers that will take up way too much space in closets for the next 30 years, they produced a flat-pack, low cost solution that will be at least as fun, if not more so due to the novelty factor. They are also about to generate a huge data dump from a live audience.
Here’s a short list of insights Nintendo has positioned themselves to glean from Labo:
- Are Switch users comfortable with quirky peripherals?
- Are Switch users comfortable with full-body peripheral experiences?
- Will Switch users take time to navigate reasonably complex instructions out of the game experience?
- Do users associate the Labo with topics of STEM education, creativity, and personalization?
- What niche markets are exposed in the response to the Labo experience? What peripherals are users now clamoring for?
- Is it OK for a major company to release a product made from “low durability” or “inferior grade” material?
So, in the end, this pile of cardboard has the potential to succeed on several levels. First, as a fun and adventurous toy that drives revenue and attention to the Switch as a platform, and second, as a huge experiment that will inevitably generate reams of data on what the market for console game experiences looks like in 2018.
Does Labo Herald the Beginning of a New Category of Products?
This might get a little philosophical in a capitalist-consumer kind of way, but to be honest I think it’s probably the most exiting bit of the situation. Apologies in advance.
In Labo, we have a product that leverages a highly concentrated bundle of sensors and processing power by supplementing it with relatively simple fixtures using an after market approach. In a different context, one might call this hacking. Except in this case, the company doing the hacking is also the hackee.
OK, it may not be full-blown hacking and I’m sure there are plenty of people who will take umbrage with me even using the term in this case, but in a broad sense we’re watching Nintendo invite the public (and other companies) to poke around with uses of their console in unexpected ways. Several conversations I’ve listened to brought up 3D printing of modified adapters as a matter of “when” not “if”. Can you even call this aftermarket modification if it’s parroting designs from the manufacturer?
More importantly, I think (hope?) that this is the beginning of a way for users to relate to their increasingly high-tech possessions. We’ve been carrying around what is the equivalent of a super-computer displaced 20 years in our pockets for over a decade now, but the majority of physical modifications that leverage all of their sensors, cameras, and connectivity are relegated to the landfill. But, if a cardboard assemblage can demonstrate a new, low cost way to interact with games and the digital world who’s to say that more companies won’t start doing the same with our growing IoT menageries or last year’s model of smartphone?
Maybe, instead of a future made of glittering bulkheads filled with miles of circuitry, screens, and readouts, we’re creeping toward a world of simple, clever configurations of the environment that facilitate complex interactions with the hardware we carry on a daily basis.
Taking this a step further (and probably less realistically): I want to live in a world where product manufacturers trust their customers with their products. Right now, you’re hard pressed to find an appliance company that would be totally OK with their users replacing basic components. I understand that this is often a matter of liability. I get that the “average user is stupider than average”. But maybe, just maybe, things like Labo can start a conversation around trusting the masses with solving their own problems and developing their own solutions.
