City building games have a Soul Problem pt.2

City-building video games, specifically Cities: Skylines 2, have a deep, intrinsic issue that plagues the overall experience. The allure of these games draws me back time and again, despite my dissatisfaction. There's a profound inner craving that compels me to dive back into this digital world, much like children building with toy cars or creating miniature cities from dirt and tunnels.

These games evoke a sense of nostalgia and imagination from our childhoods. We'd construct tiny cities with streets, tunnels, and stations, often inspired by our favorite uncle who turned the playroom into a miniature modeling world. This childhood fantasy translates into a modern-day need to launch Cities: Skylines and build a thriving metropolis. However, the focus of this article will not be on the simulation but rather on the aesthetics that leave much to be desired.

The game's aesthetic disappoints me constantly. The cityscape is devoid of any natural or organic elements, appearing square and unnatural. A random section of my city presents a disheartening view where the sidewalk, building tiles, and grass converge, creating an unappealing sight. Achieving a more pleasing visual can be accomplished through mods and decals, but it's unrealistic for most players to dedicate 40 hours to micro-managing every aspect of their city. Without investing significant time, the city feels lifeless and unengaging.

One of the joys of these games lies in simply observing the city and witnessing the algorithm's creations. The excitement of stumbling upon hidden gems within the cityscape is lost when every corner is meticulously hand-painted. Observing random corners of a city, like meandering through downtown Athens, offers a unique perspective.

It's not always about beauty or cleanliness, but rather about finding intriguing and telling scenes. Unfortunately, the game sanitizes the cityscape, making it feel sterile and devoid of character.

The game's treatment of stairs is particularly egregious. As a designer, I would incorporate real-world elements into the game, such as observing 100 real-life city photos to identify the typical features that make them unique. In my neighborhood, roughly 1 in 50 houses are pristine and organized, while the majority have unkempt corners with damp spots, weeds, abandoned toys, and clothes drying on balconies.

Even the well-maintained areas have nature reclaiming its territory in some spots. These real-world elements not only add realism but also provide functional feedback. The game should allow players to glean insights about potential issues just by glancing at the city, instead of relying on the stats panel.

To inject soul and character into city-building games, I hope future iterations or expansion packs will prioritize aesthetics. Until then, we must rely on our Bob Ross-inspired instincts, accepting the imperfect beauty that emerges from our digital cities.