I Grew Up With Tetris. My Daughters Are Growing Up With Something Different.

I’m a father of two daughters and my older one is reaching the age where digital games suddenly become fascinating. I see that spark in her eyes when something on a screen reacts to her. When it responds and when it feels alive. I recognize that feeling, because I had the same feeling as a child, too.

But something has changed. The games she is growing up with are not the same ones that I grew up with.

When I  started looking for games, I found the selection is overwhelming. Not in the sense of abundance being a gift. More in the sense of not knowing where to even begin. I found thousands of games, thousands of promises, bright icons everywhere. Everything blinking, everything competing for attention.

But here is the truth: I’m a child of the 80s. My games were Tetris, Donkey Kong, Q*bert, Lemmings, Pac Man. Cartridges you had to blow into, controllers that only did a few things and the screens that didn’t beg me for my attention. You started the game and immediately knew what you had to do.

Thinking back to those times, I realize that those games shared something that I deeply miss today: focus. One game, one goal, one core mechanic. You and the challenge and no constant nudging, no unnecessary effects layered on top and no artificial urgency.

And yes, they were frustrating at times. I failed, I started again, I recognized patterns, I built strategies, I memorized sequences and I learned that frustration is not the end of something. It is often the beginning of understanding.

That’s the point.

When I scroll through today’s app stores, I struggle to find that spirit. Even modern versions of those classics often feel different. Not designed primarily to be played, but to be sustained. To hold attention and to prevent exit. To reduce friction in all the wrong places.

Many games are overloaded with animations stacked on animations. Sounds that don’t support but overwhelm. Rewards that feel constant rather than earned. You realize at some point that you are not playing because you are curious, but you are playing because the system keeps you moving.

And then there are the mechanics we rarely talk about openly: dark patterns.

Interfaces that push you toward the next action. Countdown timers that manufacture urgency. Artificial scarcity. Streak systems that turn play into obligation. Extra clicks when you try to leave. Pop ups at exactly the wrong moment. Virtual currencies that blur the sense of value. Progress that comes from stimulation rather than skill.

Research (see resources for some examples) has shown that these persuasive design features can significantly shape behavior, especially in children who are more vulnerable to them. Studies on dark patterns in games describe design choices that intentionally steer users toward longer engagement or spending. Analyses of children’s apps have found deceptive patterns far more often in free to play environments. Work on cognitive load demonstrates that excessive visual and auditory stimuli can impair deep thinking and learning. Even research on hint systems shows that when solutions are offered too early, opportunities for real problem solving decrease.

That last part worries me the most: The disappearance of frustration.

Not frustration as punishment, but frustration as growth. If a game immediately offers the solution, if it removes the space to struggle, if it gently carries you through every obstacle, something is lost. The child is no longer solving, the system is solving for them.

However, in my world, games can be more than a distraction. In reasonable amounts, they can support creativity, strategy, pattern recognition and even build up resilience. The ability to try again. The experience of earning success rather than receiving it. As a father, that matters to me.

I work in software and I love technology. But I don’t want to rely entirely on large studios and publishers to define what digital play looks like for my children.

So I’ve been thinking about a different path.

We are living in a moment where software development is shifting. AI tools, agents, new workflows and almost new possibilities every week. Things that once required big teams are increasingly accessible to individuals. That opens a door that did not exist when I was a child.

Years ago, during the early iPhone and AppStore era, I developed simple board games and it brought me a lot of joy. That joy never really disappeared. Now there is a new layer of motivation behind it: My children.

So I think that now is the perfect time to build games again that are honest.

I want to create games that do not manipulate. Games that are not overloaded. Games that leave space for thinking. Games where success feels earned. Games that are allowed to be challenging. Because challenge is not the enemy. And of course, they should be fun. The kind of fun that leaves enough energy afterward for building, drawing, running outside, or simply being a child.

This is personal.
And this is just the beginning.

Resources:

• https://www.fdg2013.org/program/papers/paper06_zagal_etal.pdf
• https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371%2Fjournal.pone.0206767
• https://www.ofcom.org.uk/siteassets/resources/documents/online-safety/research-statistics-and-data/online-services-research/persuasive-design-features-and-potential-child-financial-harms-report.pdf