I don’t care how anyone chooses to play games. What difficulty you pick, what features you choose to use, or how often you want to quicksave and reload. If you’re having fun, then go for it;that’s what video games are for.
‘Save scumming’ is a term that’s been around for decades, originally as more of a joke, though now it’s used by ‘hardcore’ gatekeepers who find more enjoyment in ridiculing other people on Twitter and Reddit than they do actually playing a video game.
In case you’re unfamiliar, save scumming refers to the act of saving your game frequently, with the intention of reloading it every time something you don’t like happens - failing stealth, dice rolls, etc.
It’s A Needlessly Hostile Term To Throw Around
And yet, as idiotic as the judgement is, it can be felt. I’m someone who does like to save my games and reload if something happens that I didn’t want, because - stick with me now - I will enjoy the game more if I get what I want out of it. There’s nothing wrong with that, but there’s also nothing wrong withwanting things to happen outside of your control. And yet I’ll feel bad for reloading a game because that makes me ‘scum’ to some randomer online.
But then I think back to my first time playing Oblivion, and the innocence that came with it. That innocence is exactly what makes save scumming feel detrimental to an experience - not the judgement, but the journey.
This isn’t me saying you shouldn’t quicksave if you want to - I still don’t care how you choose to play your games.
As A Kid, These Worlds Were Experiences For Me
I know video games are often referred to as an ‘experience’, but when you’re young, that’s especially accurate. As a child, I never understood that saving and reloading were possible. My family had an original PlayStation and several games, but only my dad and older sister had memory cards - I was younger, so I just played games from the beginning every time I booted them up.
I had a memory card for the PS2, so I could begin exploring these worlds over a longer period of time, but reloading wasn’t something I thought about - my saves would just overwrite the previous, making my actions permanent. Then, as the PS3 came around, even without memory cards, I was still in this mindset, and it made my experiences all the more memorable.
The Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivionwas one of my first games on PS3, and I was completely engrossed in its fantasy world - but 70 hours in, I was still using only one save slot, because that’s just what I was used to. If I picked up something I shouldn’t have, I would pay a fine. If I angered someone I didn’t want to, I’d deal with the consequences. And then, my horse died.
While exploring the northern Jerall Mountains of Cyrodiil, my one horse I’d had with me in this adventure perished. When this happened, I was devastated, and I wished I could rewind time to undo his demise. But that wasn’t me looking for a solution - that was me grieving. Instead, I put a cloth over the horse and placed some lit torches on the ground around it as I said goodbye. Then I moved on.
What Would I Have Gained From Reloading?
Here’s the thing: If I had reloaded my game at that moment, I doubt I would have this memory at all. I probably would have undone the situation and continued, with nothing substantial lost or gained. Instead, as a 27-year-old man, I still remember my first video game horse, and it’s one of the core memories I recall when I think about Oblivion.
As I returned to Cyrodiil inOblivion Remastered, I remembered this moment once again. I’ve since become someone who quicksaves and reloads a lot of the time, but when I thought about the innocence that came with my horse’s final moments, I realised that maybe I should try to play Oblivion that way again.
Sure, I have a lot of cautious trauma in taking my new horse anywhere in the game, but even that enhances the experience in its own way. What happens, happens, and I think that can be a beautiful thing with our video game experiences from time to time. Maybe when I’m 50, I’ll look back on something that has yet to happen during my time with Oblivion Remastered, and hold it as dearly as I do the memories of the original game.
I swear to the Nine, if it’s my horse dying again…
