This is the first part of a series of articles where I recount my experiences playing the Metal Gear Solid franchise and explore how Hideo Kojima’s genius game direction challenged me, morally and intellectually, on a fundamental level. I’ll be writing these articles from the perspective of myself at the time I played each individual game, so some of the information may seem simplified and might be flat out incorrect assumptions that I made as a child. I’ll also be embedding links to references in the games that I do not have time to explain, or even just for comedic effect. While it isn’t essential you click on these links I believe it will enhance your reading experience significantly.

At exactly 20 years since the launch of the franchise this seems the perfect opportunity to reminisce and reflect on what Metal Gear Solid means. These games, undoubtedly, helped shaped me into the person I am today. They made me, at a young age, consider the possibility that not everything is black and white. Not everyone is all good or all bad. That it isn’t always easy to determine what “the right thing” is, and that sometimes there is no clear, or even clean, solution to a problem.

Metal Gear Solid – Tactical Espionage Action

I was eight years old the first time I saw Metal Gear Solid being played. I was at my friend Zack’s house and his older brother, Alex, was slinking around taking out bad guys. I was mesmerized. It looked so realistic.

He was shooting out security cameras, climbing through air vents, and choking out Genome Soldiers. I didn’t even know what the word “genome” meant, but everything I saw was so god damn cool I knew I had to play it. And play it I did.

When Alex wasn’t around I started popping the disc into the family Playstation and making my way through the game. It was slow going. I wasn’t great at Tactical Espionage Action I’ll be honest, and many of the story concepts flew way over my eight year old head. What I understood was that Snake was called in by the government to take out some bad guys in Alaska for stealing some nuclear material, there was an invisible cyborg ninja who was on nobody’s side, and Meryl had a great, square butt.

Throughout the course of the game, though, everything was not as it seemed. Snake was lied to by seemingly everyone. People weren’t who they said they were, Snake’s old master was actually his evil twin brother/clone (Liquid!), and despite what his superiors had told him the terrorists were actually there to steal the namesake of the series, Metal Gear – a walking tank that could shoot nukes. I had never played a game like this. Typically the goal was clear; get points, kill bad guys, level up, and drive fast… things like that. This was something new. This was an experience. This was art. I was invested in these characters. I was invested in the outcome of this mission.

Hideo Kojima, the creator of the series, introduced a myriad of nontraditional game elements that challenged not only my skill at playing video games, but my critical thinking as well. From the Meryl’s elusive Codec Frequency, which was written on the back of the game’s physical CD Case, to having to plug my controller into the Player 2 slot on the Playstation so Psycho Mantis couldn’t read my mind. At first things like these were frustrating, but when I figured them out (or when the game had waited on me long enough and told me the answer) I was both satisfied with myself as well as incredibly impressed by the talent of the people who designed this game. At eight years old Hideo Kojima’s name was one of only a few industry names that I learned, Will Wright of Maxis likely being the only other.

Eventually Snake ends up completing the mission, or at least his version of it. He kills the bad guys, loses good friends, and destroys Metal Gear. Having been sent there under false pretenses, mislead by not only the government, but long time friends and allies, he hops on a snow machine with Meryl and rides off into the tundra, presumably to live happily ever after.

Ultimately, Metal Gear Solid made me realize that not everyone in a position of authority has my best interests in mind. Just because someone is in charge does not mean they are right, or that they are even a good person. Maybe at eight years old I was a little late in learning this lesson, but growing up in a military family overseas where I was taught to respect authority and do what you are told… this was a revelation that forever changed my perception of the world. It altered how I approached authority from then on. Now, I don’t mean it turned me into an anti-authority, turd ball of a kid. I mean it lead me to question people’s motives and intentions when something didn’t make sense to me. What do they want? Is it the same thing as me, or am I being used as a tool to further someone else’s agenda? As a kid, and as an adult, this perspective has helped me to weed out those who do not have my well-being in mind from those who are truly on my side. I’ve made many life long friends and have avoided many unnecessary conflicts in life at least in part, due to Metal Gear Solid and Hideo Kojima.