I’m a male (cishet) gamer, 51YO, and when it comes to story-and-character-driven games (versus protagonist-agnostic puzzlers like The Witness or pure mechanical games like the Forza racers), I’m in the group of players with a preference for playing a female character where the game offers the choice. If I like the game, I will usually go back and try it the other way to see if and how the experience changes, but I’ll invariably take the female option the first time around.
Mass Effect has been named several times in the thread, so I’ll start with that. I’ve played through the whole trilogy multiple times with a dozen different characters. Maybe a quarter of my Shepards are male, just to explore the different relationship stories (in fact I’m doing a play now specifically for the purpose of romancing Jack, which I’ve never done before), but the rest are Femsheps. Somehow, the Mass Effect story just “works” better for me when Shepard is a woman. In the Dragon Age series, by contrast, my play history is more like half and half, though I still enjoy the female Inquisitor more. And I deliberately seek out games which limit you to a female protagonist, like Horizon Zero Dawn and the Tomb Raider series, because the publishers still seem to think “girl only!” is a risk and in a free market I regard my money as a vote.
I’m fine to play a game with a male avatar if it’s done well, but it rarely is, for a couple of reasons.
First, the conventional male character is so frequently boring and samey-same. There are many, many more kinds of people in the world than “weary, grizzled combat veteran,” and yet it seems the majority of games gravitate to the tight-lipped, square-jawed beefboy with a five-o-clock shadow and a bad attitude. The overt hypermasculinization in the gaming world is distracting and deeply annoying to me. For example, I really enjoyed the art direction and the clever combat mechanics in the recent God of War relaunch, but I also couldn’t restrain a patronizing chuckle every time Kratos reared back and punched through the lid of a treasure chest. Seriously dude? You can’t just open it like a normal person?
The flip side of the hyper-macho hero, of course, is the gross over-sexualization of the female characters in games that purport to cater to the male player. The ridiculously revealing costuming and the bizarrely narrow characterizations of women in many games frequently border on, and many times tip all the way over into, outright misogyny. Like, I know lots of people swear by the worldbuilding and the narrative depth of the Witcher games, but I look at the women in that game, the way they’re dressed, the way they walk and move, the limited roles they’re expected to play in the story, and I just can’t take it seriously enough to get past the first dozen hours or so. “But keep going,” I’m told, “the women become so much more than that.” My response is, if they really are so much more, then they should have been more from the beginning, you don’t need to grab my attention with ludicrous cleavage and waggling hips to convince me I should be interested in them as people. It’s counter-productive and stupid, and I don’t play like that.
Both of these are symptomatic, in my view, of game designers pandering to their audience’s fantasies and insecurities. I’m not wired like that, and never have been. I don’t need a steroidal avatar standing astride dewy conquests to project myself into the narrative. That shit bugs the crap out of me. And because I know I can avoid or minimize it by choosing games with a female option, that’s how I roll. It’s not perfect, of course; my least favorite moments in Mass Effect are the occasional indulgences in male gaze, as when we notice Miranda and Ashley are both going into combat wearing ridiculous high heels, or the whole design of EDI’s platform. (And don’t get me started on Morrigan’s outfits in Dragon Age.) But they’re infrequent enough to be overlooked, against everything else the series does so well.
As far as my reasons, my motivation for this preference, none of the three alternative explanations in the OP really fits me. I don’t pick a female character because she’s cute and I want to appreciate her visually (i.e. ogle her), and I don’t dress her in skimpy outfits if offered (e.g. I never put Aloy in those belly-baring Carja silks). I also don’t examine the gameplay mechanics to see whether the statistical attributes of the female avatar align to my style, in terms of apparent agility or other relative advantages. The second option is perhaps the closest, in that it describes a woman coming into her power, but for me it’s not about going from “combat-helpless to badass,” either.
No, what I like in a story-and-character-based game is the vicarious thrill of acting as a female hero who self-actualizes and makes a difference in the world. My favorite bits of Dragon Age Inquisition are not the battle sequences, choosing an optimal team and managing its positioning and talent use to overcome enemies in combat, though that is certainly enjoyable. No, the parts of that game I love most are where my Inquisitor strides into the halls of power, facing up to mighty lords and church officials, making demands and shaping history. Every time I play, I look forward most to the gala at the Winter Palace, where I search for unexplored threads of investigation and political revelation and seeking new ways to balance the resulting alliances. And somehow, for me, it just feels more significant and meaningful if the person navigating these complexities and going toe-to-toe with these aristocratic powers is a woman.
My favorite recent game is Last of Us Part 2. I know it’s been hugely divisive, but personally the game is an absolute home run for me. It’s not perfect, it has a few minor flaws in terms of structure and design, but it delivers absolutely everything I look for in a story-and-character-driven game. No, it’s not the “rise of a hero” escapism I mentioned above; instead, the game convinces me that these are real people making real choices for real reasons in a real world. Some commenters have dismissed this as merely a deconstruction of vengeance, but I don’t think it’s that simple. Rather, I think, in its unconventional structure, it’s a conscious exploration of the limitations of empathy, and it uses the player’s desire to project into a character-avatar as a way of challenging the player to explore their own personal empathic boundaries. It is thrilling to me that the game asks me to see the world through the eyes of two completely distinct women as they barrel blindly toward their inevitable confrontation. If either or both of them were men, it would work totally differently, and, in my view, probably not as well. I’m not sure why I feel this way, but I do feel it, strongly.
This is much, much longer than I intended it to be when I started. It might be clear, this is something I’ve thought about a lot, and something I believe is worth thinking about, deeply. Games are, I think, too easily dismissed as superficial diversions. If it’s Angry Birds or another time-filler, then sure, that’s fair. But in their more complex incarnations, there’s something really, really interesting about how we extend our emotional point of view into this virtual character and identify with their situation and their struggles, and I strongly believe that video games qualify, and should be evaluated, as a new art form. What we want out of a game, the way we play it, can be tantamount to a psychological X-ray, deeply revealing of who we are and how we prefer to interact with our surroundings. And it starts with the question of who we want to “be” when we play.