On its initial release, Dear Esther sparked heated discussions about its qualification to be considered "a video game." I believe answering whether it is or not for oneself will play the deciding role in whether one will enjoy Dear Esther or will find it boring and frustrating.

If one defines a video game as a virtual set of activities the player may engage with through interactivity, then no, Dear Esther is not a game. One may argue that "walking from point A to point B" may be considered "an activity", but then navigating through a 3D modeling tool may be argued to be "a video game" as well. There are no engaging activities in Dear Esther; the player simply follows predetermined paths and listens to narrations. There are no goals besides reaching the end of a level. There are no mechanics to make reaching this goal entertaining by itself. The player may not interact with the virtual world at all, being able to only navigate through it at a casual walking pace. If one seeks any sort of challenge, Dear Esther will be a disappointment.

If one defines a video game as a medium that aims to deliver experiences, emotions, and thoughts through virtual interactivity, then yes, Dear Esther is a game, and a very masterfully crafted one. Dear Esther may be compared to a poem in the sense that authors use the tools of the medium to intensify particular feelings and ideas. Compared to literature, a video game's toolset is not limited by words alone and may use imagery, sound, and interactivity to reach its goals. The reason I have referred to Dear Esther as "a very masterfully crafted game" is due to how uncannily precise it was able to influence me through these means.

When I listened to Dear Esther's developer's commentary, I was shocked to find that my emotions and thoughts were heavily manipulated by the developers. It was continuously mind-blowing to hear developers say: "At this spot, we wanted the player to feel and think this way, and for that, we used these tools," and to find that's exactly how I felt and thought on my previous walkthrough. Visuals, music, and narrations were able to captivate my mind and soul and direct me into certain experiences.

Although walking is not commonly associated with powerful experiences or considered particularly entertaining, I believe the process, under certain circumstances, may be impactful. For example, imagine walking around a place full of childhood memories. Visiting a grave of a deceased loved one. Walking towards own execution. There are many instances when walking arouses strong emotions and deep thoughts. Can similar states of mind arise through interacting with a video game? Absolutely! For example, revisiting a game from childhood and taking time to look around and reminiscent about nostalgic times. Walking around a multiplayer game map alone. Besides that, some successful horror games may be classified as "walking simulators.".

Dear Esther aims to provide a powerful walking experience. Some have argued that "the walking part" is redundant; I, however, believe it to be central. Even though interaction with the world is limited to only a walk, it does make a big difference. Although walking is not an activity (a set of actions aimed at achieving a defined condition, but not necessarily achieving it in the process), it is an action (the exertion of force with a specific end result). Walking makes the player an active agent in the world rather than a passive observer; it allows to be immersed in the world of Dear Esther rather than "looking at it through a window." It makes the player literally walk a mile in someone else's shoes. And those shoes belong to someone with a story and a reason to be on the island. Dear Esther is not about a simple expositional walk around a beautiful island with no real intention behind it and obscure poetry readings along the way. It is something much deeper. It's a journey with motivation and a goal. Dear Esther does not explicitly state what those are: it delivers information through subtle symbolic visuals, an emotional soundtrack, and disjointed, poetic narration. Instead of clear expositions, it provides snippets of information that the player can use to form their own interpretations of what's going on: why the main character is on the island, what his story is, why are the seemingly random objects scattered on the island, and what the situation's overall goal is. It takes time and mental effort to extract useful information from the environment and narration, bring it together in a reasonable manner, and come up with a satisfying interpretation. Walking assists in this endeavor.

Anyone who has gone for a walk knows that the pleasure of walking comes not so much from the sequential movement of legs as from observation and thought. Walking, as a set of movements, is boring by itself. However, observation and thinking can be extremely entertaining; thus, humans love watching movies and solving intellectually stimulating problems. In this sense, walking, being not entertaining and leaving nothing else to do, pushes a person to observe and think; pushes to more entertaining available alternatives.

Dear Esther knows it. It provides an interesting, beautiful environment to look at. But it's not all beauty: Dear Esther also leaves subtle symbolic messages, which can be used to make sense of what's going on. The narration is poetic and disjointed. But it is not empty and pretentious nonsense: there is a specific story, albeit some details are left to be interpreted (that's why I say: "to make an interpretation" rather than "uncover the story"). There is a story and a conclusion to it; it's not all vague and meaningless. However, it takes effort and attention to catch the important details and distill meaning from them. When engaging with Dear Esther and playing within its limitations, the player is naturally inclined to exert the necessary effort; Dear Esther guides the player's attention precisely. It uses walking to stimulate observation and thinking, while providing content for them. The music playing along the way will create appropriate moods and atmosphere, to further immerse the player in the process. The main point of Dear Esther is not in its story, however. It is about the feelings, emotions, and ideas the journey it inspired awaken in the player.

Naturally, if one seeks challenge and active engagement, Dear Esther won't work. It requires a calm, open-minded state of mind. The same state of mind is, in fact, required for a thoughtful walk. If the player allows Dear Esther to influence emotions and gives effort to understand what it's trying to tell, then Dear Esther will provide one of the unforgettable walks. Otherwise, it will make one to raise eyebrows in disapproval.

On its initial release, Dear Esther sparked heated discussions about its qualification to be considered "a video game." I believe answering whether it is or not for oneself will play the deciding role in whether one will enjoy Dear Esther or will find it boring and frustrating. If one defines a video game as a virtual set of activities the player may engage with through interactivity, then no, Dear Esther is not a game. One may argue that "walking from point A to point B" may be considered "an activity", but then navigating through a 3D modeling tool may be argued to be "a video game" as well. There are no engaging activities in Dear Esther; the player simply follows predetermined paths and listens to narrations. There are no goals besides reaching the end of a level. There are no mechanics to make reaching this goal entertaining by itself. The player may not interact with the virtual world at all, being able to only navigate through it at a casual walking pace. If one seeks any sort of challenge, Dear Esther will be a disappointment. If one defines a video game as a medium that aims to deliver experiences, emotions, and thoughts through virtual interactivity, then yes, Dear Esther is a game, and a very masterfully crafted one. Dear Esther may be compared to a poem in the sense that authors use the tools of the medium to intensify particular feelings and ideas. Compared to literature, a video game's toolset is not limited by words alone and may use imagery, sound, and interactivity to reach its goals. The reason I have referred to Dear Esther as "a very masterfully crafted game" is due to how uncannily precise it was able to influence me through these means. When I listened to Dear Esther's developer's commentary, I was shocked to find that my emotions and thoughts were heavily manipulated by the developers. It was continuously mind-blowing to hear developers say: "At this spot, we wanted the player to feel and think this way, and for that, we used these tools," and to find that's exactly how I felt and thought on my previous walkthrough. Visuals, music, and narrations were able to captivate my mind and soul and direct me into certain experiences. Although walking is not commonly associated with powerful experiences or considered particularly entertaining, I believe the process, under certain circumstances, may be impactful. For example, imagine walking around a place full of childhood memories. Visiting a grave of a deceased loved one. Walking towards own execution. There are many instances when walking arouses strong emotions and deep thoughts. Can similar states of mind arise through interacting with a video game? Absolutely! For example, revisiting a game from childhood and taking time to look around and reminiscent about nostalgic times. Walking around a multiplayer game map alone. Besides that, some successful horror games may be classified as "walking simulators.". Dear Esther aims to provide a powerful walking experience. Some have argued that "the walking part" is redundant; I, however, believe it to be central. Even though interaction with the world is limited to only a walk, it does make a big difference. Although walking is not an activity (a set of actions aimed at achieving a defined condition, but not necessarily achieving it in the process), it is an action (the exertion of force with a specific end result). Walking makes the player an active agent in the world rather than a passive observer; it allows to be immersed in the world of Dear Esther rather than "looking at it through a window." It makes the player literally walk a mile in someone else's shoes. And those shoes belong to someone with a story and a reason to be on the island. Dear Esther is not about a simple expositional walk around a beautiful island with no real intention behind it and obscure poetry readings along the way. It is something much deeper. It's a journey with motivation and a goal. Dear Esther does not explicitly state what those are: it delivers information through subtle symbolic visuals, an emotional soundtrack, and disjointed, poetic narration. Instead of clear expositions, it provides snippets of information that the player can use to form their own interpretations of what's going on: why the main character is on the island, what his story is, why are the seemingly random objects scattered on the island, and what the situation's overall goal is. It takes time and mental effort to extract useful information from the environment and narration, bring it together in a reasonable manner, and come up with a satisfying interpretation. Walking assists in this endeavor. Anyone who has gone for a walk knows that the pleasure of walking comes not so much from the sequential movement of legs as from observation and thought. Walking, as a set of movements, is boring by itself. However, observation and thinking can be extremely entertaining; thus, humans love watching movies and solving intellectually stimulating problems. In this sense, walking, being not entertaining and leaving nothing else to do, pushes a person to observe and think; pushes to more entertaining available alternatives. Dear Esther knows it. It provides an interesting, beautiful environment to look at. But it's not all beauty: Dear Esther also leaves subtle symbolic messages, which can be used to make sense of what's going on. The narration is poetic and disjointed. But it is not empty and pretentious nonsense: there is a specific story, albeit some details are left to be interpreted (that's why I say: "to make an interpretation" rather than "uncover the story"). There is a story and a conclusion to it; it's not all vague and meaningless. However, it takes effort and attention to catch the important details and distill meaning from them. When engaging with Dear Esther and playing within its limitations, the player is naturally inclined to exert the necessary effort; Dear Esther guides the player's attention precisely. It uses walking to stimulate observation and thinking, while providing content for them. The music playing along the way will create appropriate moods and atmosphere, to further immerse the player in the process. The main point of Dear Esther is not in its story, however. It is about the feelings, emotions, and ideas the journey it inspired awaken in the player. Naturally, if one seeks challenge and active engagement, Dear Esther won't work. It requires a calm, open-minded state of mind. The same state of mind is, in fact, required for a thoughtful walk. If the player allows Dear Esther to influence emotions and gives effort to understand what it's trying to tell, then Dear Esther will provide one of the unforgettable walks. Otherwise, it will make one to raise eyebrows in disapproval.