Ghost of Yōtei Thinks I’m Stupid

Ghost of Yōtei: A Deep Dive into Its Player Guidance and Narrative Choices

After dedicating an extensive 30 hours to the world of Ghost of Yōtei, and having recently returned to it following a brief interlude to cover Little Nightmares III for Game Informer, we find ourselves thoroughly engrossed in Sucker Punch Productions’ spiritual successor to the acclaimed Ghost of Tsushima. Each workday now concludes with an eager anticipation for the evening, a time when we can once again immerse ourselves in the meticulously crafted 17th-century rendition of Ezo, famously known today as Hokkaido. As our playtime accumulates, a recurring contemplation emerges: does Sucker Punch Productions, the esteemed developer behind this ambitious title, perceive us, the players, as lacking in intellectual engagement?

Ghost of Yōtei presents itself as a title that defies simple categorization as either excessively difficult or trivially easy. Instead, it offers a safe, comfortable, and ultimately satisfying sequel experience. The narrative, while recognized as potentially only halfway through its unfolding, has thus far failed to resonate profoundly. We harbor a nagging suspicion that this might follow the familiar trajectory of a “Sony Revenge Story,” where the protagonist’s pursuit of vengeance, embodied by Atsu, may culminate in a narrative twist designed to elicit empathy or even guilt from the player for their active participation in this quest. This mirrors concerns voiced about The Last of Us Part II in 2020, where the thematic exploration of revenge’s unfulfillment was a central, and for some, a polarizing, element. Our hope is that Ghost of Yōtei will chart a different course.

Beyond our reservations regarding the narrative’s current impact, we find ourselves appreciating many facets of Ghost of Yōtei’s design. It demonstrably builds upon the foundations laid by The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, a design philosophy Sucker Punch Productions began to explore in Ghost of Tsushima. This evolution is particularly evident in the enhanced exploration mechanics within Ezo, which have been rendered genuinely fun and exciting. Furthermore, the combat system has undergone a significant and highly commendable upgrade compared to its predecessor, representing what we consider the most impactful improvement in the sequel. We also find ourselves engaging more readily with the diverse cast of characters encountered through Sensei, Bounty, and Tales side quests, often finding them more compelling than those encountered along the main narrative path. Yet, the more time we invest in Ghost of Yōtei, the more we perceive a discernible pattern in the way the game disseminates information and guides player actions.

The Unwavering Hand: Ghost of Yōtei’s Approach to Player Guidance

A significant point of contention, and one that fuels our central query about the game’s perception of player intelligence, lies in its method of delivering guidance. Ghost of Yōtei seems to actively resist allowing the player the space to think, to wonder, and to discover independently. This is most starkly illustrated through the game’s spyglass mechanic.

The Spyglass: A Tool for Observation or a Crutch for Comprehension?

Accessible by tapping up on the d-pad, the spyglass is ostensibly designed for gaining a clearer vantage point on distant objects or points of interest. In a manner reminiscent of The Legend of Zelda, the game allows for the creation of a waypoint, which the game’s intuitive wind navigation system then guides the player towards. We appreciate that Ghost of Yōtei consciously avoids the pervasive practice seen in series like Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed, which, coincidentally, also ventured into feudal Japan in the same year Ghost of Yōtei was released. The rejection of an “all-encompassing marking system,” where every cursor hover over an object creates a persistent marker, is a welcome departure.

However, this deliberate avoidance of over-marking paradoxically leads to a situation where we find ourselves rarely utilizing the spyglass unless explicitly prompted to do so by the game. This reliance on explicit instruction contrasts with the potential for organic discovery that such a tool could facilitate.

The Teshio Ridge Revelation: When Guidance Becomes Over-Guidance

The most striking instance of this occurred recently during a Sensei side quest involving Master Enomoto in the Teshio Ridge region. We were tasked with locating Kitsune hideouts and other enemy-specific objectives. Instead of allowing us the satisfaction of actively searching and identifying these targets, leveraging the spyglass as a genuine tool for reconnaissance, the game intervenes. The periphery of the spyglass view is blurred, and the relevant areas are illuminated with a bright white light. This visual cue unmistakably communicates: “Do not worry about expending any cognitive effort on this task; what you are searching for is situated precisely in this highlighted area.” The realization of how this spyglass mechanic truly functions sent our minds racing, connecting it to numerous other instances within Ghost of Yōtei where the game’s design choices seemed to signal a fundamental assumption: that the player must be inherently unintelligent.

Puzzles Designed for Players, Not for Problem-Solving

The Teshio Ridge region, and indeed many other areas within Ghost of Yōtei, present players with environments filled with what are ostensibly designed as “puzzles.” We use the term “puzzles” with a degree of reservation, as the gameplay mechanics and their solutions rarely necessitate genuine intellectual exertion or critical thinking.

The Enigmatic Cipher: A Token Gesture of Complexity

While a cipher mechanic is introduced, providing the initial impression of requiring its adept use, every puzzle encountered where the cipher reminder appears follows a predictable and unchallenging formula. These tasks invariably involve simple manipulations: rotating fox statues, placing fox statues on designated pedestals, or igniting fires beneath specific fox statues. While players can engage with the cipher to cultivate a sense of intellectual engagement, we have personally found no compelling need to do so, as the solutions are invariably apparent without it.

The Fox Statue Pedestal Conundrum: A Lack of Ingenuity

Consider a specific scenario we encountered last night: two stationary fox statues were positioned, one on the left facing right, and another on the right facing left. Adjacent to these were two pedestals, each bearing a movable wooden fox statue. The puzzle’s premise was that one pedestal held a left-facing fox, and the other, a right-facing fox. The objective was to open a door. The solution? A simple swap of the pedestals. By utilizing the R2 button to pick up and then re-place each statue, the door would miraculously unlock. This process demands zero effort or deductive reasoning on our part and, frankly, proved to be an irritatingly trivial hurdle. If the intention is to incorporate puzzles, they should at least be designed to stimulate some level of thought, however minimal.

The Fiery Conundrum: Obvious Solutions and Missed Opportunities

In another instance, we were presented with three fox statues, each capable of having a fire lit beneath it, with the understanding that only one required ignition. The consequence of lighting an incorrect statue was a fiery explosion, engulfing Atsu in flames. The game implicitly posed the question: “Which statue should you light to avoid being immolated?” The answer was glaringly obvious, located mere feet beyond the three interactive statues. A fourth fox statue, positioned atop a rock, directly behind the tableau of interactive statues, mirrored one of the three, thereby clearly indicating the correct solution. Again, minimal cognitive engagement was required; the solution was literally within arm’s reach, requiring only a cursory glance beyond the immediate interaction.

The Rotational Riddle: Exploiting Game Design for Ease

Elsewhere, we encountered a situation where two fox statues were already oriented correctly, but a third required rotation to align with its counterparts. While a cipher theoretically provided the correct directional alignment based on matching symbols, the inherent limitation of the game’s design – that the statue could only face four distinct directions – rendered the puzzle almost self-solving. By simply rotating the statue until it audibly “locked” into place, the puzzle was resolved. While we acknowledge that we are “gaming” the system by opting for the path of least resistance, it underscores a missed opportunity for Sucker Punch to design an exercise that genuinely demanded critical thinking and problem-solving skills.

A Pervasive Pattern of Player Hand-Holding

This consistent tendency towards over-simplification and overt guidance extends beyond the fox statue puzzles. We find ourselves uttering similar critiques for:

The Unspoken Assumption: Are We Truly Perceived as Lacking?

Perhaps this is a manifestation of personal insecurity surfacing, but we strongly suspect this is not the case. The aforementioned examples represent merely a fraction of the ways in which Sucker Punch Productions deliberately and explicitly holds the player’s hand. The game’s design relentlessly signposts the path forward, as if it has already predetermined that players are incapable of independently deciphering even the most rudimentary challenges.

We are not unintelligent, Sucker Punch. However, the pervasive design choices within Ghost of Yōtei have instilled in us a persistent and unsettling question: does the game, through its actions, believe us to be so? The potential for a truly emergent and intellectually rewarding experience is present, but it is consistently undermined by a pervasive, albeit likely well-intentioned, over-reliance on guiding the player’s every step. The world of Ezo is rich and vast, filled with lore and potential for discovery, but the constant scaffolding prevents us from truly exploring its depths with our own intellect.

For those seeking further insights into the game, we recommend consulting Game Informer’s comprehensive Ghost of Yōtei review. Additionally, their spoilery post-launch interview with Sucker Punch Productions may offer additional context regarding the development philosophy behind this ambitious title. Our hope is that future iterations or expansions might embrace a bolder approach to player agency, allowing us the space to truly engage our minds and forge our own path through the compelling world Sucker Punch has so meticulously crafted. The potential for Ghost of Yōtei to be an even more profound experience is undeniable, and it lies in trusting the player’s capacity for intelligent engagement.

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