Experts claim that “excessive” video gaming is a modern-day psychological disorder based on the lack of impulse control, much the same as “compulsive” gambling. Psychiatrists prescribe medications for “video game addiction,” and some parents vilify their children for gaming when they could be “doing more productive things,” like sports or piano lessons.

But during thirty years of playing games daily, sometimes devotedly, in place of more conventional life experiences, I managed to get through high school and Columbia University cum laude and law school magna cum laude. In fact, I credit video games for sharpening my mind: Improving my critical thinking, decision making abilities, increasing my imagination and knowledge of the world at every stage of my life. And I feel better adjusted, more adaptable, socially-engaged and have a greater sense of well-being than most.

How could this be? Listening to parents, journalists and mental health experts, I should have turned antisocial, withdrawn, violent or brain-dead after gaming for so long. But instead of spiraling into such wickedness or darkness, video games plunged me into an interactive world, one in which critical thinking and imagination shaped the arc of my actions. My decisions determined the direction of the game. Make the wrong one and I would pay for it; make the right decision and I received a reward, much like life.

Video games had value for me far beyond the time I spent playing them. They inspired my curiosity. I became interested in the history behind the game, checking out books from the library about castles or medieval Europe. I learned about forms of government, got a sense of the lives behind historical figures and discovered human savagery in battles. What made my interest so consuming was that I felt I was living the material I was learning when I played each game. Perhaps, more importantly, I was experiencing something deeply meaningful — how I performed mattered — and my actions led to real results. I had to be fully engaged, cogent, intellectually incisive and responsible for my actions. I also learned how to gracefully accept defeat and feel gratified in winning, abilities that later served me well in the world.

I followed these patterns in almost every game I played, across many genres. Early on, I played a flight simulator called The Battle of Britain, in which I took the controls of various World War II aircraft and flew missions over England as if it were 1940. I piloted a German Messerschmitt fighter taking on Spitfires over the English Channel. The graphics and sounds enveloped me. I lost myself in the experience, holding my breath while reacting quickly and instinctively to new stimuli that came at me randomly. My eye-hand coordination grew more precise with every challenge as did my thinking.