In order to truly understand the how and the why of cheating in videogames we need to look back at some of the earliest examples, namely the inclusion of cheat codes or inputs alongside off-brand cheating systems, like the Game Genie.
Perhaps one of the earlier, and most well-known of these sanctioned cheat codes created by developers was the Konami code, or the Contra code, first ‘discovered’ in the original NES Contra game. This code, ↑↑↓↓ ←→ ←→ B A START, was found not only within this title, but also within other Konami games, hence earning it’s primary title as the “konami” code. Later it later became a staple of ‘gamer’ culture, appearing in non-Konami games, on clothing, and other paraphernalia. How does a code, one that gave players a mere 30 extra lives, an official cheat-system, gain such a cultural traction? It wasn’t just Contra and Konami games either that featured cheat codes like these in the earlier days of console gaming. Sonic 2, featured a level-select option within the ‘sound test’ section of the options menu, among other choices like debug mode or unlimited lives. Even games like Disney’s Aladdin featured a level-select mode on its Option menu, mirroring the style of the Konami code: A, C, A, C, A, C, A, C, B(x4).
While cheat codes were primarily instituted by game developers for playtesting purposes (having unlimited lives is a really good idea if your job is to potentially find glitches via death in Sonic), they were clearly never taken out of a wide array of games. Alongside the question of the popularity of cheat codes, we can similarly ask why these were left in at all by the developers? In the case of games like Sonic 2 or Aladdin, level-select was a very useful option for players who had beat the game a number of times and didn’t want to “work their way through” again, only to get to their favourite level. Lacking a cartridge save option, something that would be later included with Sonic 3, it made sense for players to have access to these kinds of perks, after being “in the know” to find them. That being said, Sonic 3 continued the tradition of cheat codes and still had its fair share of cheats.
It also wasn’t just thanks to the great sleuthing of early videogame fans that we found out about these codes either, in the pre-launch and early years of the internet. Participating in cheat code culture in social circles, scribblings in the back of Blockbuster rental copy game books, and even licenced game magazines like Nintendo Power, or even strategy guides, often included these to help other gamers find them. Soon after, the pseudo-mythological state of the cheat code was born, and it felt like everyone was on the lookout for the next one they could share with their friends, or fellow rentee.
Official codes weren’t the only things that players found in efforts to modify their gaming experiences at this time. The discovery of glitches, exploits, and in-game skips were also common inclusions in this realm of “cheating” and modification. I can remember playing the original Pokemon Blue and learning about the different ways I could cheat the code and glitch it into giving me things like unlimited pokeballs or items, alongside even getting a Mew super early in the game. A lot of these kinds of glitches, the Mew nonwithstanding, required access to other Gameboys or different bits of technology to get them to work. Following clever-use-of-game-mechanics (as Blizzard loves to label it), players could flash-restart, controller switch, or cartridge remove-replace their way to a whole array of new things that were very much part of the original code, even if not used as intended.
Unlike learning that Mario can skip a bunch of worlds by dropping behind a white block in Super Mario Bros. 3 and using some fancy flute play, these kinds of glitches were off the books, even if their inclusion in the game was somewhat ‘intentional.’ We can take this to the next level at this point, to consider once again the Game Genie, and perhaps it’s odd and sanctioned cousin, Sonic & Knuckles.
The Game Genie was a 3rd party development released for a number of the early consoles, including the NES, SNES, Gameboy, and Sega Genesis. The device came with a book of codes which allowed players to cheat their way through a variety of games through the Game Genie’s bypass system. Essentially, because the device acted as a mediator between player, console, and cartridge, it allowed for the system to read the game code emitting from the cartridge differently from its actual output, allowing for the player to reap the benefits. In addition to the codes that shipped with the device, players were able to create their own codes by random generation, or even could subscribe for updates via a paid service. It was quite an era for cheating. However, it should come as no surprise that Nintendo in particular fought back hard against the system, trying to claim it infringed on copyright. The legal case settled in Game Genie’s favour, however, and their ‘unsanctioned’ cheats were safe.
In contrast, Sega was in full support of the system, as long as it didn’t provide cheats for games which allowed for saving. Sega’s approach to software circumvention adds an interesting layer to an analysis of cheating in videogames, as it again suggests that cheat codes, even unsanctioned ones, were meant to help players bypass unwanted content when saving along the way was not an option. It’s unsurprising that they followed this ideology, as Sonic & Knuckles allowed for players to have a pseudo-sanctioned version of the Game Genie already. The cartridge had a slot on the top which was intended for players to insert only Sonic games into it, allowing Knuckles to join the fray of Sonic 2 and others. Instead, it also allowed for players to have randomly-generated Chaos Emerald stages in the Sonic 3 style based on the code of nearly any Sega game that was inserted.
More commonly today, we see these kinds of cheats available through ROM-hacking emulators, console commands (PC), or unofficial patching/editing by the savvy game community. Further still, all of this so far has been related to software or “soft” cheating and modding of videogames, not even considering the hardware or “hard” modification, which requires going in and tweaking the actual hardware in order to run things you weren’t intended to. While there isn’t time to discuss this fully here, it’s interesting to consider again that by virtue of their design, videogames require an entirely different kind of systems for modification than their board game cousins. After all, it’s easy enough to make up your own pieces for a board game versus wanting to play N64 games on your Xbox 360. Yet again, there are also often more legal issues surrounding hardmodding, as we saw recently with Nintendo and modding chips.
While it’s becoming increasingly rare to see “official” cheat codes in video games (except in the case of games like The Sims, though more on that in a later blog), we do see the inclusion of console commands and the ability to modify games through “mods” available instead. We’ll look into this realm of modding and cheating later, but it highlights something within the gaming community: we can’t let games be. As soon as a game is released, especially for current systems, we are continually seeing them adapted, cracked, modified, and eviscerated by the community so that the original intended experience is no longer the only one we have access to. Why does there seem to be such an essential ‘need’ to cheat?
Academic References/Further Reading:
Bogost, Ian. Persuasive Games: The Expressive Power of Video Games (2010)
My Life, or Something Like It 