Video Gaming Therapy for Men

For some men, the conventional therapy setting presents a difficulty before the conversation has even begun. Sitting opposite another person, or looking at them through a webcam, with the explicit expectation that you are there to talk about yourself can feel uncomfortable or unnatural.

That doesn't necessarily mean you are unwilling to engage with therapy. The format itself may simply not suit you particularly well.

Video Gaming Therapy at Wolf Path explores a different possibility.

Instead of sitting face-to-face, we meet within the shared virtual world of DayZ. Sessions take place on a private PC or PlayStation server occupied only by you and me. There are no other players, no PvP and no strangers appearing unexpectedly. For the duration of the session, we have the world to ourselves.

The game isn't the therapy. It gives us somewhere to be and something to do while the therapeutic work takes place.

Something to do while we talk

There's a simple idea behind this approach: conversation can feel different when it happens alongside another activity.

We might travel across the map, gather supplies, build a base, fish, hunt, cook food or sit beside a campfire. Sometimes we're working towards something. Sometimes we're simply talking while moving through the landscape. Sometimes neither of us needs to say very much at all.

This idea isn't entirely without precedent. Research around Men's Sheds, for example, has explored how shared practical activity, social connection and psychological safety relate to men's wellbeing. The wider Men's Sheds model is often described as offering a more shoulder-to-shoulder context for men rather than relying entirely on face-to-face conversation.

I'm interested in whether some of that principle can translate into a virtual therapeutic environment.

In conventional therapy, when conversation stops, the silence can become the focus of the room. In DayZ we can keep walking, check the map, chop firewood or finish building something. A difficult conversation can pause without the session itself feeling as though it has stopped.

For some men, that may simply feel more natural.

Behind the avatar

The virtual environment changes something else too: you're not sitting there being watched.

We know who each other is, so this isn't true anonymity. But behind an avatar, some of the visual pressure of face-to-face communication disappears. You don't have to think about where you're looking or become conscious of someone watching your expression while you try to find words for something difficult.

Research into online communication has found an association between anonymity and increased self-disclosure, although the effect varies considerably between people and situations. More recent research is beginning to explore how avatars, self-presence and perceived anonymity may relate to people's willingness to disclose within virtual mental-health settings. None of that proves that DayZ makes people more open in therapy, but it gives us good reason to remain curious about the possibility.

For someone naturally introverted, self-conscious or simply uncomfortable being the centre of another person's attention, having an avatar and a shared activity may provide just enough distance for conversation to feel less exposing.

Sometimes concentrating on the environment might also mean concentrating less on how you're coming across.

Why DayZ?

DayZ wasn't designed for therapy. Oddly enough, that's part of what makes it interesting.

The private server gives us a large world where we're free to decide what to do and where to go. There can be long periods of travelling or quiet activity alongside practical tasks that give us something purposeful to work on together.

I don't assign predetermined psychological meanings to any of this.

Fishing isn't a mindfulness exercise. Building a base isn't an attachment assessment. And DayZ isn't a personality test.

But occasionally something that happens while we're playing may become worth noticing.

Perhaps frustration appears when a plan goes wrong. Maybe asking for help is unexpectedly difficult. One of us might automatically take control while the other follows. Or nothing psychologically significant happens at all and we simply carry on talking.

I'm not looking for evidence to fit a theory. If something feels familiar or seems connected to something happening elsewhere in your life, we can become curious about it together.

What does a session look like?

There isn't a rigid sequence.

We meet on the private server and begin with whatever is happening for you that day. We might already have something you want to talk about, or we might enter the game and allow the conversation to develop while we're doing something together.

If something important emerges, we follow it. If something within the game seems worth noticing, we can explore that too. And if we spend much of the session walking across Chernarus talking about something completely unrelated to DayZ, that's perfectly fine.

The therapy leads. The game provides the environment.

You don't need to be particularly good at DayZ. Your performance isn't being assessed and there are no other players competing with you. If you're inexperienced, learning the environment can simply become part of what we do together.

Is Video Gaming Therapy for you?

It may be worth considering if you already feel comfortable in gaming environments, find conversation easier while doing something alongside somebody, or dislike being the sole focus of another person's attention.

It may also offer an alternative if you've been curious about therapy but find the idea of sitting face-to-face or staring into a webcam uncomfortable.

If gaming isn't your thing, there's no reason to force therapy into a game. Conventional online sessions remain available.

And this is still therapy. It isn't casual gaming with a therapist, a friendship, gaming coaching or treatment for gaming addiction. The same professional boundaries apply within the virtual environment as they do in any other therapeutic setting.

A developing part of Wolf Path

I'm particularly interested in what Video Gaming Therapy might offer men in midlife.

Gaming is now a familiar part of adult life for many men, yet its potential as a setting for therapeutic conversation remains relatively unexplored. Research into adult gaming has identified possible emotional and psychological benefits while also emphasising how much remains to be understood about how different people experience gaming. Research around Men's Sheds also raises interesting questions about how shared activity, social connection and psychological safety can support men's wellbeing.

Video Gaming Therapy at Wolf Path brings some of those questions into a different environment. I'm interested in whether shared activity, the avatar, reduced visual scrutiny and a private virtual space might provide some men with a different way into therapeutic conversation.

I don't think we know enough yet to make grand claims about what Video Gaming Therapy can achieve.

That's one of the reasons I'm interested in exploring it.

If sitting around a virtual campfire talking while the rain falls over Chernarus sounds more natural to you than sitting in front of a webcam, Video Gaming Therapy might be an approach worth considering.