Witch Hunt... this reminds me of Umineko No Naku Koro Ni. Anyone here played that game? Does the gameplay mechanic relate to the current topic? I heard something about truths outlined in red or...
Umineko does not have gameplay mechanics; it's not interactive at all. It's a good story, and provides plenty of opportunity for the reader to try to figure out what's going on.
But I would not call Umineko a shining example of ideal epistemology: e.g. the protagonist is investigating a murder mystery; but if in the process he comes to believe in magic, then he loses; and he knows that, so he'll try to avoid a conclusion that involves magic whether or not it's true; and all this occurs in a universe where magic does exist elsewhere, the only question being ...
This article aims to prove that Ace Attorney is possibly the first rationalist game in the lesswrongian sense, or at least a remarkable proto-example, and that it subliminally works to raise the sanity waterline in the general population, and might provide a template on which to base future works that aim to achieve a similar effect.
The Ace Attorney series of games for the Nintendo DS console puts you in the shoes of Phoenix Wright, an attorney who, in the vein of Perry Mason, takes on difficult cases to defend his clients from a judicial system that is heavily inspired by that of Japan, in which the odds are so stacked against the defense it's practically a Kangaroo Court where your clients are guilty until proven innocent.
For those unfamiliar with the game, and those who want to explore the "social criticism" aspect of the game, I wholeheartedly recommend this most excellent article from The Escapist. Now that that's out of the way, we can move on to what makes this relevant for Less Wrong. What makes this game uniquely interesting from a Rationalist POV is that the entire game mechanics are based on
That the judicial system is Japanese-inspired also means the legal system is inquisitorial: the court has an active role in the case (whereas the adversarial system in the West reduces the role of the court to a form of referee) and its (alleged) mission is to dig out the truth. That and the lack of in dubio pro reo mean you can't just be content with putting your client's guilt in reasonable doubt, you have to thoroughly prove their innocence and find the true culprit and get them imprisoned. That means you have to find out the entire story and you can't leave any threads hanging.
Additionally, the fact that you are a lame attorney facing an unsympathetic judge and egomaniacal, dirty-playing, high-status prosecutors who *have led the police investigation and only prosecute when they think they have all the cards in their hand* means you will. not. catch. a break. Every single move you make will be scrutinized, you will face constant sarcasm, dismissal, condescending and ridicule, and sometimes a single mistake on your part (presenting the wrong piece of evidence) can cost you the entire case. This game forces you to take an unflinching stand for the truth in the face of every social sanction imaginable (including, obviously, attempts at your own life). Of course, the plot goes out of its way to make things difficult for you: everyone is as unhelpful as possible, and even your clients need to have the truth pried out of their mouths with the determination of a dentist. Other witnesses can cast remarkably subtle webs of lies that really force you to think out of the box in order to find their weak point. And, since the cases are Always Murder, your client's life is always on the line, and that's when you don't have another person in grave distress. This serves to motivate you and draw you into the story, but it also adds to the constant pressure you are in to find the truth.
But that's not all. In the latest sequel, Ace Attorney Investigation, you take the role of Miles Edgeworth, a prosecutor who Defected From Decadence and restricts himself to ethical methods in crime-solving, eschewing the questionable methods he used in the past, and which most of his colleagues still practice with abandon. The battle doesn't take place in court (which, unless Phoenix or his successor Apollo are defending, is but a formality) but during investigation, which is where the case is won for a prosecutor (if they aren't certain they have enough evidence to get a conviction, prosecutors just don't... er... prosecute). This means you have to investigate the crime scenes, interrogate the suspects, and find the connections between the clues in order to reconstruct what happened. This is represented in the game by an entire gameplay mechanic for logical deductions (and a fair bit of Will Mass Guessing) that are hilariously over-the-top, concluding with a literal "Eureka!". The interrogations are no piece of cake either: oftentimes, (and, surprisingly, realistically enough in a police investigation) you have to take your suspects through excruciating logical baby steps to break their lies, since they can rely on something as cheap as semantics. Actual Eureka Moments, that is, sudden piecing of mental puzzles in a moment where deductive thinking is stalled, thanks to someone saying something unrelated that just happens to trigger the right association, is also a common phenomenon during investigation: composing a good hypothesis with nowhere near enough evidence is, of course, another rationalist skill, one that is underrated by modern Science as it is now.2
So, to sum it up, what virtues does these games teach?
I rest my case.
1. Sorry, couldn't resist the reference: I'm just that geeky. Sue me.
2. That, and, honestly, who could resist a game that names one of it's tracks "Logic, The Way To The Truth" and, when winning a case, "Solution! Splendid deduction." "Cornered", which plays when you are punching a hole in a witness's declaration that is so huge it could swallow galaxies, leaving them no room whatsoever to continue with their lies and often leading to spectacular villainous breakdowns(MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT), remains an all-time classic. (One clip is even peppered with quite interesting quotes on Truth.)