>> Thank you for showing us your brain! And showing us how to understand more about ours. Well... Coming up, we have... The third of four talks. In this block. I am pleased to introduce... Da-da-da da! I'm just waiting for it to show. I'm pleased to introduce my friend Adam Parrish, who will be speaking on the topic of Scrabble sucks! Towards higher order word games. >> Hi, everybody. >> Hi, Parrish. >> How is it going? >> Good afternoon, sir. >> Okay, so... For the purposes of this talk, I'm going to assume you know what Scrabble is. If you don't, I give you permission to look it up on your phone on Google or whatever. I'm going to assume that you know what Google is as well. This is me. I am a computer programmer and experimental poet and a game designer. The title of my talk today is Scrabble sucks, but the thing with Scrabble is that lots of people have fun playing it, and there's an amazing culture surrounding it in the competitive scene or whatever. Obviously people think it's fun so I want to revise the statement down a little bit and say instead this. So what I'm going to talk about in this talk is... Sort of what I think is wrong with Scrabble and some games that I've designed that work differently and I hope better. So there will be a little bit of computer programming along the way. First of all, I want to explain what evil Scrabble visited upon me that made me hate it so much. And that is that once I was visiting my family in Utah over the holidays and we decided to play a board game. We picked Scrabble, and this is basically how the game went. My mom played the word North, which is fine, 24 points, my sister played fireman, which is great, 26 points, and I look at my rack and think -- it's my term to play. And I don't want to be an insufferable smart-ass, but what can I do? So I end up playing qoph, qi, and pe and hm. This is perfectly legal Scrabble, and it's worth 66 points, but is it worth the contention and strife it caused? Not one, but four weird words in one turn. This had a very deleterious effect on our fun. Everybody thought I was engaging in ostentatious brain show boating, and I kind of was. But it wasn't fun for anybody, so eventually we decided to stop playing Scrabble and play something else. So basically this is why I hate Scrabble. (applause) Now, a nicer way to phrase this might be... Competitive Scrabble playing requires a lot of arcane knowledge. You have to memorize a lot of words, both tiny and large, so when you're playing with people who don't have that hermetic, monk-like knowledge of all the things you need to know to play competitive Scrabble, it can lead to hurt feelings, that aren't fun. Other games aren't like this. If I win at a game of soccer or Street Fighter or something, nobody thinks I'm a smart-ass. It's something particular to Scrabble. So it's easy to chalk these problems up to the culture of Scrabble, or my personal inability to keep my smart-assery in check for more than 30 seconds at a time. But there are important structural problems with the game that are important to mention. It's based on unigram frequency, which means moving parts whose value and commonality are determined by frequency of letters in the English language. More As and As are worth less, one Z and the Z is worth a lot. Letters are put into play by drawing them randomly one at a time. Another important aspect. Now, there are advantages to this model. One is it's easy for people to understand. We get that E is a very common letter so there should be fewer of them and they're worth less, but Z is a very uncommon letter so you should get more points for playing them. The model is very familiar and used over and over in many word games. One issue is that our intuitive understanding of how words are put together doesn't stop at just knowing the frequency of letters. We also know things like the sequence ING is common, specifically, but the ends of words -- the letter K is frequently preceded by C, and re is a sequence of letters you can put in front of a word to give you another word. Scrabble doesn't reward that knowledge. It rewards having a big arcane vocabulary. So my hypothesis/hunch/things I'm operating on as an assumption is that if valuable letters in a game are associated with higher scores and there are fewer valuable letters and those letters are drawn at random, the most valuable plays are going to be shorter words with rarer letters, which tend to be those smart-ass vocabulary test words that we were talking about earlier, that stop you from being able to have fun playing a game with your family. So it doesn't have to be this way. I don't think that people should have to memorize long lists of words or have extensive vocabularies in order to enjoy and be competitive at word games. As a linguist and poet, I'm sensitive to the fact that everybody is a fluent speaker of their own idiom, has an intuitive understanding of how words are put together, and everybody wants to play with that and have fun with it and come away without the feeling that they're unintelligent. It breaks my heart that somebody could play with words, something we all understand and like, and come away thinking they're not smart. So here are some of my experiments in game design that I think might address some of those problems, that specifically don't use unigram frequency as their model. This first game is called Rewordable. I designed this with my friends Adam Simon and Tim Szetela. The basic idea of this game is -- what if the pieces of the game, instead of unigrams were bigrams and trigrams. This is a deck of 160 words -- some of them are single letters, but most of them are bigram or trigram sequences of two or three letters that were selected based on their frequency in English. So the idea is that because the units are larger, players are going to be able to form longer, more satisfying words. We're still kind of working on the rules of this, but I think it kind of goes a ways to accomplishing the goals I was talking about before. We're going to do a Kickstarter for this soon, so keep your eyes out for that. A second game is called Characterror. That I made a few years ago. You play as this sort of ASCII ship on the right with the letters trailing behind it. The idea is that you select one of the slots on the left and then you kind of fire the letters from the right into the slot to make words. And then you can press a button that will score the word. Kind of bank it. So the trick of this is that the letters to the right there are generated with a Markov chain, instead of just being selected... >> Woo! >> Instead of just being selected randomly, based on frequency or something like that. So now some of you are probably saying... Wait, Markov? What does that even mean? Probably very few of you are saying that. But I just kind of wanted to explain, give my very brief explanation of how a Markov chain works. So let's start with a corpus consisting of a single string, the word condescendences. Which is what this talk consists of. If you find all the unique bigram sequences of two letters in this word we end up with a list like this. But what a Markov chain does is in addition to having a list of bigram, it finds for each bigram what letters follow each bigram and builds a probability table. We see that the bigram de half the time is followed by s and half the time is followed by n. If we were to continue and make a probability chart like that for all of the letters, it would look something like this. So this is a statistical model of what the text in that corpus looks like. Now, Markov chains are famously used for generating amusing text. So if we recursively feed our prediction back into the prediction making thing, we end up with new sequences of letters that statistically resemble but are not identical to the original source text, so that's like this. Condendescencesces. This is generated by the chain condescendences. Imagine if we had a Markov model of all the words in the English language. Then we would be able to create a way of giving people letters in word games that will be useful to them, based on what's already in play. So another game I made to sort of play with this is a game called Lexcavator. This is kind of a cross between Boggle and Mr. Driller. You select words and that allows you to let your guy go further down into the infinite well of words here. So to ensure that the words you find are interesting and fun, the board is generated actually with Markov chains sort of moving in two directions, and I kind of made like a tiny diagram of how that works. So, like, each one of these slots, going from left to right, is going to be filled in -- that character is going to be filled in with a Markov chain based on the probability that it would come after some word either directly above or diagonally above, across the columns. And that would just get repeated for each one of these things. So what that ends up with doing -- what that ends up doing is giving you sort of more sure ways to precede downwards, and also longer words that are slightly, like, not quite as arcane. So the question, then, arises with the remaining 30 seconds... Is does this actually work? And I did a corpus analysis of Scrabble games, versus Lexcavator games. This is a histogram which shows word frequency, word commonality in English versus word frequency in both games. So you can see, I pointed out sort of on these graphs where Lexcavator has more words than Scrabble, and you can see they're kind of bunched up here to the left, which means basically yes. In Lexcavator, you have words that are more common, instead of in Scrabble, where the words are more spread out across the whole thing. Anyway, that's all the time I have. (applause)