Why go outside and touch grass when it’s so nice in video games?

I went out the other day and stood in dog shit. I couldn’t have stood in it more if I tried. I scraped the dirtied sole of my shoe against the edge of the curb, and furiously rubbed it on some grass, but when I squatted down to look at the nutritional info on some flapjacks in Tesco, all I could smell was shit. The shoes went in the bin. The beauty of stepping outside in a video game is that there’s rarely shit involved.

I’m playing through Ghost of Yotei at the moment. My brother kindly bought it for me for Christmas. I really enjoyed Tsushima and was looking forward to another jaunt out into the Japanese wilds. Nearly 20 hours deep and it’s already proving to be an incredible step up from its predecessor in nearly every way. It’s a visual showcase, the story is great, and it’s much more confident as a title. It’s also got incredible bushes.

The first time I rode through a Yotei woodland I was taken aback. This felt different. It wasn’t merely a backdrop for the game. It felt like a living word. Look, I know it’s something cringe that game folks would say when stepping up to the stage in E3 (god rest it), but this time it’s a justified statement. The wind kicks up leaves, birds fly from branch to branch, deer graze the woodland floor and sunlight leaks through the tree tops, painting ethereal light shows across the grassy canvas. To sound trite, it felt like I was there.

There’s no shying away from how great this game looks. I’d mentioned in our gaming WhatsApp group that “graphics have peaked, lads”. It’s stunning. And this helps push the point I’m eventually going to get around to, but it’s not strictly tied to graphical fidelity.

I grew up in the arse end of nowhere. Our house was situated on a hill surrounded by woodland and fields. The nearest town was 7 miles away. Other than that, acres of fields. I spent most of my childhood traipsing through those fields and exploring the woodlands. I’d climb trees (then get stuck and shout for my dad to get me down). I’d belly-crawl through crops (and nearly have an asthma attack from the pollen). I’d sneak into the farmer's yard and slide down a stack of ill-piled bales (then nearly get caught by the farmer while I hold my breath, cowering behind a big Hesston). I was pretty much a Lincolnshire wildman; one who had to be in before teatime for a bath. Playing Ghost of Yotei has sent me back to those times. Whilst rural Lincolnshire is literally worlds apart from Japan, the vegetation has its similarities. The bracken, the towering trees, the impenetrable bushes, and the swaying grass, all work together to conjure up these feelings of the past.

And it got me thinking about what makes an immersive video game. I’d often equated immersion simply to something that looks realistic, and that can still be the case, but now I think there’s another side to it. It’s less about the visual connection and more about a crossover of the real world and the digital. Games that evoke memories become more memorable. Which sounds obvious when I type it out. Seeing something that reminds you of the world around you, pulls you into the game more.

It’s the reason why playing on nostalgia works so well for video games. Seeing an art style from moons ago casts your memory back to those times sitting in your bedroom, reaching for the plastic Curver box to pick out a game, taking the cartridge from its cardboard surround and placing it into the console, sitting on your knees just inches away from the giant CRT TV, a tangled cable snaking from console to controller which you hold firmly in your hand eagerly waiting for the title screen.

When video games hook into those memories, they become tangible. The barrier between digital and real is muddied and that’s when they become immersive. That’s when they leave a bigger impression on you.

And that’s why you should go outside. I know making this statement following a whole throwback of me sitting in my bedroom playing video games really ruins this point. But the more we spend away from video games, the more we step outside and touch grass, the more we can appreciate them when they tap into these memories. Even if it does run the risk of stepping in dog shit and putting you off a flapjack.