Bioshock is the game we need to revisit right now
*spoilers for all Bioshocks*
Welcome to Rapture

Bioshock was first released during a simpler time, 2007. To put that into perspective, that was when the first iPhone was introduced and memes were still in the BIG WHITE LETTERS format. Throwing lead and pumping plasmids into our arms in a spooky underwater world was fun and all, but I can’t help but feel that the anti-Randian/anti-capitalist message was mostly lost during the initial launch.
That’s not to say we didn’t get it. We heard what it was saying. It’s impossible to play the game and not be hammered over the head with “unregulated pursuit of financial gain = fucked up shit” but what I mean is, we couldn’t have possibly internalized the message as well as we can now.
The fact that Bioshock is being released as a remaster on the Switch, arguably the most popular gaming console during a pandemic when our conservative leaders are asking people to return to work despite the health concerns is so absolutely ironic and meta that I now have to fully believe that this is indeed some kind of angelic simulation and we’re not really here. I’m not really typing this.
But I think I’m typing this so I’ll play along.
I’m not here to talk about how well the game performs, technically speaking, on the switch, nor am I here to write a review of the game’s artistic value. That’s a given. People have been clamoring to bring the game to the latest consoles as if they weren’t just given stimulus checks and couldn’t be bothered to go buy a gaming PC as supply-side Jesus expects them to.
What I’m here to do is shove a random glowing syringe into my radial artery and pray that it gives me lightning powers and not a myriad of other infectious diseases. While I’m at it, I want to explore the themes of the game and how they play with how we as a collective American family currently on fire experience them.
So would you kindly keep scrolling?
“Is it someone new?” — Bioshock 1

Of course I’m going to make the connection between the Objectivism on overdrive (“Ooo”) displayed in Rapture and the current state of America’s handling of the Covid crises. I still see people saying “it could have been worse” and throwing a blind eye to the faults in our government’s response much the same way the people of Rapture continued taking plasmids until it drove them mad.
I remember wondering why Rapture’s denizens didn’t simply stop taking the drugs that were driving them insane but then I remembered that the DARE program in the 90s asked a similar question with dismal results and that I too would gladly drive myself mentally insane if I could throw birds out of my hand or conjure a swarm of bees (get wrecked Nicholas Cage).
They just couldn’t help themselves. You don’t need to be schooled in Keynesian economics to see the parallel in overzealous capitalism, the drive for extreme wealth from billionaires who already have so much, and the insatiable hunger for ADAM. “Everybody wants it, everybody needs it,” and one can never get enough of it without it leading to madness.
In fact you know what? This write up could be ten pages long if I try to go through all the parallels between our current economic climate and the events in Rapture leading up to its downfall so I’m just going to make a quick list:
- Andrew Ryan put the economic development of Rapture ahead of the health and wellbeing of his people.
- There was little to no class mobility in Rapture due to no economic safety nets leading to:
- Mass violent protests (do you seriously need a link to this one?)
- In addition to no safety nets the majority of the means of production were owned by a select wealthy few.
“But there’s nothing like a fist full of lightning now, is there?”

We’re all stressed out. We have good reason to be. This shit sucks in a verifiable way. The only light in my life is making a ton of bells on turnips and running raids in World of Warcraft. (Oh and my wife. I love my wife a lot.)
So why would we want to play a game that embodies and so easily demonstrates the issues that we are collectively facing right outside our doors at this very moment?
No really I’m asking you, why the fuck would you do that? Leave a comment below.
Nah I’m joshing of course but also I’m kind of not.
Animal Crossing I get. It’s like anti-capitalism because a benevolent Tanooki will buy anything, even weeds, to help you pay off a 0-down, 0-monthly payment, 0- do whatever you want I truly don’t care loan you made out to him.
Doom Eternal I also get because it’s metal af and “hell yeah brother”. It’s what you get when you combine a rootin’ tootin’ yeehaw hootnanny with skull fucking demons. It’s chill.
I think the value of descending back into Rapture right now (I refuse to use the phrase “during these unprecedented/uncertain times”) is that for 90% of the game you are an unwitting slave, controlled by the phrase “Would you kindly?”.
But despite that, throughout your time shooting up splicers in Rapture, you get the choice to Save or Harvest Little Sisters. This was one of the cooler aspects of the game, that your choices could affect the ending you saw. It’s par for the course now but remember that this game came out a long time ago- before games like The Last of Us, before Mass Effect, before a McDonald’s President.

Being able to influence how a story evolved was pretty novel. And I think now, more than ever, we want to feel a sense of choice. Like our decisions matter. I think I can speak for many when I say that we feel a sense of powerlessness right now. “What can men do against such reckless hate?” says King Theoden from Lord of the Rings. Games, especially great games, are able to impart one particular thing: a sense of autonomy.
Nostalgia is a powerful feeling. I’d be down to be taken back to high school, back to a time when I thought I knew what I was about. Back to that moment the first time I had a choice to Save or Harvest a little sister. I can’t remember what choice I made that first time. I’d like to remember.
Welcome back to Rapture: Bioshock 2

Bioshock 2 was all right.
Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt — Bioshock 3: Infinite

After what I just said about free choice in Bioshock 1, it’s strange that Bioshock: Infinite totally removes that. Infinite is all about Determinism. There’s always a Lighthouse, there’s always a man, there’s always a city. It still gives me chills.
Infinite steps away from exploring economic fallout and follows America’s evangelical religious zeal to its logical conclusion. Far Cry 5 and Bioshock: Infinite live in the same headspace for me, except one has super powers and the other is very Nascar hillbilly ‘merica bang-bang.

It would be easy to dismiss Infinite and its place in our hearts as a cathartic bullet trip killing all the evangelical racists but it’s more than that right now. It’s a chance to examine not just how we feel about the times we’re living in but in what way we should feel them.
There are more than a few thought pieces out there discussing the implications of Infinite’s determinism. Some are quite clever, even employing similarities between Infinite and one of my favorite plays, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead by Tom Stoppard.
So many deterministic explorations spend a lot of time examining the implications of living in a world where free will is an illusion, delving into the macro and microeconomic impacts, the effects that this would have on our judicial and criminal justice system, what romantic relationships would amount to.
But one thing I don’t see discussed nearly as often is if all of our experiences are determined, how should we feel about them as we’re living them?.
Does it matter if this is just a ride that we are set on, a roller coaster on tracks that will always loop and tumble at the exact same place every time, if it still excites us?
What is DeWitt supposed to do, not save the girl? And if he must save the girl, should he not do it with all his might, all his will, all his birds flying out of his Goddamn hands?
If we are to live this life in this world that we have inherited, even if our choices were made for us already, wouldn’t it be better to enjoy those choices as we perceive to make them and smile while we’re on the ride?
It’s a bleak thought, but that wouldn’t mean that we are just passengers to our own lives or to what is happening in our world right now.
There is an iconic scene towards the beginning of the game where the player is given the choice to stone a mixed-race couple for their crime of loving each other. It’s a horrendous scene, but no matter what your choice is, the scene ends the same way.
Ultimately, the choice is made for you because no matter what the player picks, the couple will not be stoned, something will get in your way if you choose to throw the stone at them out of morbid curiosity.
But that doesn’t matter.
What matters is how I feel about the choice that I made, even if the choice was nothing but an illusion.
The coin toss always comes out heads. Your choice of broach when it’s offered to you, bird or cage, makes no difference.
But these choices don’t need to make a difference to the ending in order to mean something. They make the game, your experience, yours.
“Because it does. Because it has. Because it will”

If there’s always a lighthouse, always a man, always a city, and if there’s always a news story, always a political scandal, always a reason to be angry; that means that while the ending might always be the same, what matters is how we get there.
We all have choices to make with how we participate with what’s going on around us. I’m not saying there’s a right or wrong answer. If you feel like stepping out your door and joining your local protest is what you need to do, then of course that’s the right answer. But it’s also okay to sit under a blanket with nothing but the blue light of your Nintendo Switch illuminating your face if that’s what you need right now.
Your only consideration is what you’ll think of yourself in those last moments when all timelines converge. How your choices made you feel. When Elizabeth, the very personification of choice and freedom, stares you in the face before your last moments and holds you down beneath the water. If you can be at peace with the decisions you made leading up to that moment then what you’ve lived is a success.
Elizabeth dreams of being free during the events of Infinite. She dreams of Paris and safaris. She wants to escape her cage. We can all relate.
But to get that freedom she and DeWitt have to go through a lot of shit. So do we. We never get to see what Elizabeth does with her newfound freedom (what does she do for money? (see there’s that damn capitalism again, get out of here capitalism)) but if she’s anything like me, the first thing she’ll do is drink a warm beverage that she likes, in a place she loves.
One day.
René Castro is an amateur professional writer and a recreational charlatan. He is not being mind-controlled by a glowing personification of Objectivism. Yell at him on Twitter @Rene4591 and don’t forget to hit the applause button!