Sid Meier’s Civilization is one of those games that will always hold a special place in my heart. When I was little, way back when the Nintendo GameCube still ruled the land, I remember running down to the basement before school, scarfing down a bowl of cereal, and waiting an exorbitant amount of time for the ancient desktop to boot up Civilization IV. It was right up there with some of the very first games I ever played, along with Simpsons: Hit & Run, Spongebob Squarepants: Battle for Bikini Bottom, and Super Smash Bros Melee. For better or for worse, getting to play God for a few minutes each morning shaped my childhood, and so to hear that Civ 6 would be the first unit for the course was a welcome surprise to say the least. I took the opportunity to stroll down memory lane, even renaming my capital city “Theodoropolis” like I did way back when, and just had a lot of fun with the unit.
However, now that I’m no longer three years old, I can also appreciate the sheer cultural beauty of this game as well; I’m a history education major, and for a long time, anything and everything resembling the cultural exchange has fascinated and excited me. I always love watching cultures meet, mix, and weave themselves together into new traditions like they have here in America and around the world. So, to play a game like Civilization, where they fully understand the grandeur and awe associated with the progress of humanity and all the beauty and wonders we have built, it just feels really, really nice. Even in Civilization VI’s opening cutscene, which I hold to be one of the greatest masterpieces of gaming, it shows us in no uncertain terms what the game, and humanity as a whole, is all about. It begins with a humble vessel, charting a course into the great unknown, and likewise shows all the greatest moments of humanity, from breathtaking celebrations, to mighty victories, to even once more charting a course for the unknown, taking the first giant leaps into the final frontier. And, of course, composer Christopher Tin outdid himself with the beautiful anthem of Sogno di Volare. It instills in me an emotion I can’t quite describe, just this awe and reverence for humanity and how far we’ve come, everything that we’ve built. It’s fantastic, and beautiful, and I need to stop talking about it or else that’s all this blog will be.
Civilization is a strange and exciting new tool to use in the classroom, as while it definitely shies away from anything resembling historical accuracy, you can still tell that the developers of the game still love and cherish the civilizations they’ve included with all their hearts, and that is where its true value for education lies. It’s impossible to use Civilization as a device of learning specific facts and details, but for understanding others, for learning about other cultures and about great leaders and figures of history? It’s fantastic. Each and every civilization and leader is treated with such care and love, it’s almost unreal. Whenever I meet Scotland in game, even though I can’t understand a single word of Scots, it still feels like Robert the Bruce is really talking to me. The way this game treats its leaders, while great across the board, seems to me to come in three distinct tiers: you of course have your old standards, the ones everyone expects, like Philip II for Spain, or Mahatma Gandhi for India, or Queen Victoria for Great Britain, and even these flagship decisions seem natural and beautiful. Each of these leaders is voiced brilliantly, their policies are reflected in the gameplay wonderfully, and it all comes together extremely well. The second tier, beyond these obvious choices, are the secondary historical figures, that you perhaps don’t think of as “The Greatest”, but definitely still deserve a spot in the limelight. In this category, I include Theodore Roosevelt for America, Emperor Trajan for Rome, or Frederick Barbarossa for Germany. These civilizations have their own distinctive greatest leaders, (Washington, Caesar, Bismarck) but it was these three instead that were chosen, and that’s perfect, because it encourages a deeper understanding of each civilization and their history beyond just the parts everyone knows.
Then, finally, there’s the most exciting tier to me, the “Who the Hell is This?” Tier. “Who the Hell is This?” consists of all those leaders, and even those civilizations, that came entirely out of left field with no warning whatsoever, but are still loved all the same. In this tier, I place people like Australia’s John Curtin, or Canada’s Wilfrid Laurier, or lesser known civilizations themselves like the Cree and Poundmaker. Just the sheer joy of seeing characters like Simon Bolivar, or Queen Wilhelmina, or Pedro II, these lesser known names and faces brought to life with such care and attention, it’s treated like this great honor, to have your people included in Civilization, and they prove it with their attention to detail and genuine love of history. For instance, when playing as America, I rejoiced when I finally unlocked the Rough Riders as a unit, just as I’m sure any Maori player would have smiled at spawning on the water, or any Chinese player would have grinned as they completed the construction of the Terra Cotta Army.
There is an indescribable love and care in this game, one that goes beyond any specific date or place, and gets down to the very essence of humanity and civilization. Civilization VI is a wonderful tool for teaching students how to admire and love other cultures, as well as gain a deeper appreciation for their own, far more than any textbook or lecture could. Just as I found a little piece of myself in this game when I was a child, isn’t it beautiful that in this, the simple joy of playing a game, all civilizations, great and small, past and present, from all corners of the world, can find a little piece of themselves?
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