I watch them fight and die in the name of freedom.
They speak of liberty and justice, but for who?
Video games have become one of our most impactful,
popular, and creative forms of media.
Last year, the industry generated almost 150
billion dollars in revenue worldwide,
rivaling books and films and dwarfing music.
Gamers spend over three billion hours a week
in the virtual worlds of their choosing.
And, more so than other contemporary form
of media,
video games explore the themes of freedom
and personal agency,
allowing players to go where they want and
do what they please—
as long as they’re prepared to bear the
consequences.
Two of the three best selling video games
of all time are Grand Theft Auto 5 and Minecraft,
polar opposites in terms of violence and target
audience,
but both of which were designed to offer players
the opportunity to make their own destinies.
With a wide array of redesigned mechanics.
And a huge range of both structured and unstructured activities for you to do.
But there’s one franchise that stands apart
in its focus on individualism, liberty and
personal responsibility,
both in its style of gameplay and the stories
it tells.
It’s called Assassins Creed.
The series is set in an alternate history
where Assassins, who value freedom,
wage a secret war against Templars, who believe
in totalitarian control.
Both sides insist that their ultimate goal
is peace, but differ on how to achieve it.
The Assassins are the “good guys” of the
games,
and their outlook is also the most libertarian.
As outlined by 
their creed:
And one of the franchise’s earliest and
overall best protagonists can elaborate further:
Put another way,
individuals are ultimately responsible for
what they believe, what they do
and the consequences of both.
Which isn’t to say that these games are
simplistic, anti-authoritarian agitprop.
The antagonists aren’t just cartoonishly
evil villains
bent on power for power’s sake.
The series portrays the Templars as human
beings who, for the most part,
sincerely want to make the world better.
And the Assassins are themselves flawed, corruptible,
and suffer from internal contradictions.
For example, they claim to believe in freedom
while at the same time relying on violence
and putting absolute faith in their rules and traditions.
Assassin’s Creed teaches us that our ideological
adversaries aren’t evil.
Usually they share our values.
Often, they have a very different concept
of how to obtain the same goals.
It also drives home the lesson that,
however much human beings think they’ve got life figured out,
nobody has perfect knowledge.
Assassin’s Creed is more than a series of
games about sneaking up on people and stabbing them.
It’s a franchise about the nuances and tragedy
of human struggles,
the complexity of opposing ideologies, and
how the lines between them blur.
And beneath it all how the choice between
good and evil is deeply personal,
and ultimately rests with the individual,
alone.
