How do you know that what you know is real?

This is the question I wrote down in my notebook in my final year of design school, when the course leader asked us to think of a question to kickstart our final-year projects. That question would ultimately lead me to make my first game, and to begin my ongoing exploration into meaningful play.

It is a question that has accompanied me for as long as I can remember.

As the child of parents who were born and lived the first 30 years of their lives in a dictatorship, I am a second-hand witness to a totalitarian regime. Their stories fascinated me as a child, and worried me as an adult. Their stories are absurd, the way they organised themselves within such a system feels dystopian. But when I asked my mother how they could believe in the ideology they were presented with, she said they didn’t know an alternative.

Ideology is a complex concept. My favourite take on ideology is that of Slavoj Žižek, whose starting point is Jacques Lacan. We can never fully leave ideology. We need ideology to understand the world, to organise ourselves, to see other humans. This is why, when taken to the extreme and placed in the hands of certain types of leaders, ideology becomes one of the easiest ways to impose a dictatorship, or to impose separation between two humans. But what we can do is step outside of our ideology, look at it critically, and then return with the awareness that we are, in fact, inside a chosen system of belief.

So how do we step outside of ideology?

I found one answer in Paulo Freire, who introduced the concept of critical consciousness. Freire created an alternative educational system (critical pedagogy) in which the student is not a passive receiver of information, but an active participant in the process of learning and meaning-making.

The historical context we live in has created an unprecedented intersection with Freire’s idea of critical consciousness. Games are increasingly the medium people turn to for entertainment. The industry is evolving rapidly and has positioned itself confidently as a storytelling medium. Games allow us to enter a story, to move through a world, to encounter different perspectives, to make sense of something from within rather than at a distance. This is what makes them powerful. Games don’t give us meaning; they let us find it. They open up space for complexity, for questions that don’t resolve, for stories that stay with us because we’ve been inside them. And we are only just beginning to glimpse that games can allow us to achieve a ‘critical consciousness’.

If we go into the layer of meaningful games, we can begin to see how these patterns emerge in the human brain. Survival, through true stories in games, becomes resistance. In meaningful games, choices move from design questions to human questions. What happens when a player is asked to make a difficult choice, and has to live with it? What happens when a story refuses to resolve? What happens when you are placed inside a perspective you don’t agree with? Meaningful play also becomes a shared language between game designers and researchers, allowing them to engage with the same questions in order to address some humanity’s most pressing challenges. For a short while, games allow us to leave behind who we are and become someone else, or at least to explore a different part of ourselves. And finally, games can (and should) be a space of calm, the infamous escapism they have always been associated with, but now associated with ‘cozy games’.

This is why, for this edition of (SOLD OUT!!) Play Praxis happening alongside London Games Festival, the theme is The Human Mind. We are building a space where interactive culture is taken seriously as art, as research, as a force that shapes how we understand the world and each other. Play Praxis brings together game makers, scientists, thinkers, and storytellers to think alongside one another. To hold space for difficult stories, overlooked perspectives, and new forms that don’t yet have a name. This is the beginning of exploring what games can do to the human mind, and what the human mind can do through play.

My thesis is that if we can show that games can touch, and then alter, the human mind, we have truly demonstrated the impact they can have. And perhaps more importantly, to ask: if games can change how we think, what responsibility comes with that?

For a while, the games industry has been boasting and bursting. Which means that in the past couple of years, being an indie developer pitching to publishers or investors meant listening to the same line, over and over and over again: ‘there is no market for your game’. This line helped me refine our game and continue to aim to build something that will be a commercial product that players will like. Because if I want to achieve impact, I need to make sure I reach enough players for the game to be impactful. Rightly or wrongly, this is my approach. The feedback also helped me expand the studio with our PlayLab, our creative arm that connects us to partners across the cultural sector where we use play to connect them to their audiences. For us, as a studio, it has helped us diversify our revenue stream and not rely our whole existence on a publisher deal, or one single game. The process is slower, but at least we are still here. This was my answer to ‘there is no market for meaningful games’. But then, I wondered, what if there is a market for meaningful games? What happens then? And most importantly, what do we do with it?

This was what sparked the idea of bringing together a group of game developers making impact-driven projects, creators interested in this space, and players, which we later named ‘Play Praxis’ and tested it for the first time in London on the 27th of November. Over the four weeks of marketing solely organically and on our own platforms, we attracted 140 registrations, and we saw 70 people who walked in and brought the event to life.

The inspiration for the event was French salons, and we wanted Play Praxis to have the feeling of underground subculture. The top floor of Ringside Bar offered that intimacy to the night. The dark room was being lit by a sunset wall, which created the perfect background for the roundtables, as well as the light from the 6 screens where six projects were showcased.

showcases

As you entered, the first project to your right was the BARNS, a VR docu-game about othering, the space between us and them. The game is currently in development, and it stems from a creative program at the BFI in London that supports filmmakers who are looking to move towards interactive entertainment. This is a project my studio Episod is co-producing, and I joined not only because the topic speaks to my core, but I thought it was an interesting project to include in the first Play Praxis, to spark a discussion on how other mediums are moving into games.

Next to one another, right after you played the BARNS, there were three games on what we called ‘Node:Earth’. All Will Rise, Treeplanter, and Race for the Arctic, three games that directly tackle climate change, but all in a very unique and different way. They got the audience to not only see how games can address complex stories, but to realise that there is not a singular way to bring impact to and through your game. Without staying too long on ‘Race for the Arctic’ since it is a game I am developing, both developers I shared this node with are two developers I admire, Meghna for bringing her unique writing to every project, and Henry for planting trees every weekend with his dog, the core topic of his game.

In front of these three games, we had the pleasure to support the soft-launch of the first Game Poems Magazine edition. This is a project we didn’t know we were going to include, but when we were approached we had no doubt it was going to be part of Play Praxis, and we hope to continue a collaboration and offer a special place to them. I truly believe in the power of short form games, it is short games at Now Play This in 2018 that got me to see the power of games as a craft beyond commercialisation, and since then I seek games that deliver a strong feeling in just a couple of minutes of gameplay. And I love the framing of games as a poem, with longer games being prose.

And lastly, next to Game Poems Magazine, we had a booth for Uma Games and their game in development ‘Project Cubit’. Uma is a VC-backed venture that is answering the great question of how games will reshape education. There have been many attempts, but why I like UMA in particular is because they are not trying to gamify education. I am a bit skeptical of projects that simply recreate traditional curriculums as a game. What Uma does differently is that they look at the power of games for learning as an interconnected practice, and truly apply games in a way that looks beyond traditional learning.

Throughout the night, it was great to see people stopping by and testing the games, chatting with the developers. If there is something I would like to do slightly better in a future Play Praxis it is to bring more attention to each individual game, and facilitate discussions between the devs and players to help them in their development.

roundtables

What turned out to be a favourite part of the event was the roundtable. When conceptualising Play Praxis, I wanted to go beyond panel discussions and more into a roundtable discussion style for the evening. I wanted to have recurring discussions that people could join, led by the developers present in the night, where people could come together and have an open discussion. I wanted everyone to feel like they were being interviewed and welcome to join any discussion, so upon arrival everyone received a random prompt. A few days before the event, I visited the bar, and I saw that they had a literal round table. I will pretend for a moment that you also believe in the force of speaking things into existence, because this was one of those things of the night that would have felt much different if the roundtable wasn’t really a roundtable.

There were a total of five roundtables during the night, from 6:30 pm to 10 pm. To open the night, I invited Meghna (All Will Rise) and Henry (Treeplanter) to co-lead a discussion on how to tell complex stories. For 30 minutes we saw people jumping in, joining, and setting the tone for the rest of the night. The second roundtable was more experimental. Jen (and her very special guest) led a D&D style show on climate activism. People LOVED it. And it showed us as organisers that there isn’t a single way to host a roundtable. Jordan (Game Poems Magazine) led the third roundtable, and I loved seeing the organisers and founder of Now Play This join in. The fourth roundtable led by UMA was the only one I couldn’t let myself stop because there didn’t seem to be a natural stop to it. The topic of learning through play connects us as developers who are looking to achieve impact, but also as players that have been directly impacted by the games we have played. I cohosted the final roundtable with Iain (the BARNS) and we started with a quiz that allowed everyone to see where they scored in the scale of belonging vs being the other.

I had bought a long sheet of paper that I hoped we could fill in throughout the evening, but that was the only thing that didn’t work out. I have a vision for it in the future, and will integrate it better. But each roundtable exceeded our expectations. The discussions continued long after each roundtable, and I always wondered how I could connect different people I know, and seeing them connect was probably the most rewarding feeling for me the whole night.

Each roundtable began with a small neon sign being lit up. After a total of 3 hours and 30 minutes, we turned it off and applauded for everyone who joined us in this first Play Praxis.

what’s next

In the long (tiring and boring) journey of fundraising I have learned that to make something real you first need to prove that there is a need, there is an audience, there is a product. I think this quickly-put-together-let’s-see-what-happens Play Praxis materialised these questions a bit better for me. If five years ago we could count a few developers making impact-driven games, now there are tens to hundreds of them all over the world. And there are filmmakers, educators, creators moving into this space. There are players who are looking for games that move them emotionally and show them something new. There are developers who want to make these games, or bring them to market, but sometimes it’s as simple as ‘we don’t know how’. And what is truly missing in this whole space is a community for each of them to belong to, to come to every time they are either looking for a game to play, or a collaborator, or an idea.

I see this space as a growing hub where players will find games, where games will find museums, where museums will find game developers, where game developers will find players. And so on.

So what happens if there is a market? We build it. Together. With every game, developer, player, creator. And with another Play Praxis. And I’m happy to give you a sneak peek of the next Play Praxis.

To everyone who joined the first Play Praxis, from the bottom of my heart THANK YOU <3

praxis (noun)
(a) exercise or practice of an art, science, or skill;
(b) customary practice or conduct;
(c) practical application of a theory.

The word praxis comes from ancient Greece.
The philosopher Aristotle believed it to be one of the three fundamental human activities: theoria (thinking), poiesis (making), and praxis (doing). For Aristotle, praxis is the moment where thought and making are materialised into the world, the action that brings theory to life.

Perhaps this is why the term keeps resurfacing in the most dynamic fields such as politics, philosophy, education, and wherever transformation depends on practice.

Three particular thinkers have shaped how I understand praxis, and why I design games based on true stories. And, ultimately, why I was drawn to the idea of a collective.

Hannah Arendt: action

In her study of modern humanity, The Human Condition, Hannah Arendt considered humankind from the perspective of what it can do. She defined praxis as political, participatory action, and the true expression of human freedom.

For Arendt, it wasn’t enough to think about the world. One had to act in it. Her work reminds us that ideas only matter when they move through people.

Jean-Paul Sartre: togetherness

The existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre saw scarcity and competition as the root of human struggle, with freedom emerging when people act together, united by a shared purpose. He called this group praxis, the moment when people become accountable to one another through collective action. For Sartre, a revolution was an act of collective becoming.

Img: Sartre & de Beauvoir

Paulo Freire: critical consciousness

And finally, Paulo Freire, the Brazilian educator and philosopher who founded what became known as critical pedagogy, an approach to education that empowers learners to question and transform the social, political, and cultural conditions shaping their lives, linking learning with action.

In Pedagogy of the Oppressed, he defined praxis as ‘reflection and action directed at the structures to be transformed’.

And this is exactly what games do.

Img: Theatre of the Oppressed, a form of participatory theatre inspired by Paulo Freire

games as praxis

Games aren’t about knowledge transfer from a hierarchical power like much of traditional education. They’re about discovery.

When players act, they learn.
When they fail, they reflect.
It’s self-driven understanding.

And most importantly, games let players face complexity, moral choices, systemic pressures, social hierarchie in ways no other medium can. They reimagine learning as participation, not instruction. A player is at the centre of a world unfolding around them.

That’s why I’ve come to believe that play offers a unique potential we are only beginning to explore. And it’s not gamification.

why a Play Praxis now

The games industry is constantly evolving. Indie developers are telling deeply personal, urgent stories:

• Never Alone, preserving Iñupiat storytelling and culture

• A Palestinian developer bringing the story of the Nakba to a global audience

• A game exploring Alzheimer’s based on personal stories of the developer. As long as you are here is out on Steam now!! Screnshot below is from the game.

These works are redefining what games can be. But they’re also caught between art, activism, and entertainment, often without a defined category or community to belong to even inside the games industry.

Meanwhile, other sectors are increasingly exploring play:

• Researchers and educators use games to reach disengaged audiences

• Governments and NGOs experiment with interactive storytelling to teach systems thinking

• Museums and cultural institutions seek the same immersion and emotional depth that games already master

Play is becoming a literacy. So the question became:

What happens when all these worlds meet?

a games salon

Throughout history, ideas didn’t evolve in isolation. Aristotle argued with Plato. Sartre debated in smoke-filled Parisian cafés (at least, that’s how I imagine them). Arendt hosted salons where philosophers, poets, and revolutionaries shared meals and manifestos.

Movements were born not in institutions but in rooms. That’s what I want for Play Praxis.

Everyone I’ve met across games and cultural spaces has been really foundational for how I create, and I want them to sit at a table together. Not a stage. A space where conversation comes first. Where ideas can be unfinished, and games are in progress. Where we talk about what we’re making, and why, and how to make it better. A small gathering where developers, artists, researchers, and players can meet across disciplines and explore what play can do.

open-studio style

While we’ll announce all titles in the coming days, I can share that Play Praxis will showcase games in a way that invites dialogue over display, where ideas evolve through conversation, not consumption. Creators will be present, opening their processes to the room. It’s a space for risk-taking for testing aesthetics, mechanics, and ideas before players and institutions define their value.

I’ve always been inspired by the Young British Artists, who used collective identity as amplification. when artists band together, their individual voices gain momentum and visibility. Play Praxis is imagined in that same spirit.

Play Praxis is a call to gather. To imagine what could happen next.
And, of course, to have a lot of fun.

The first Play Praxis night will take place soon in London, a mix of playable demos, workshops, and conversations exploring what games can do for culture and collective imagination.

💌 If this resonates, join us by registering here.

22 Kingsland Road, London

Nov 27 from 6pm to 11:30pm GMT