In video games, there is a common concept known as the skill floor. The minimum amount of effort and knowledge expected of a player to begin playing the game.
Mario Bros. has such a low skill floor that it may as well be a bottomless pit. If you can press A and B on the controller, you can play Super Mario. On the contrary, a game like Super Meat Boy requires sharp timing and solid mechanics from the player.
Both are 2D platformers with simple controls, yet marginally different skill floors.
In a PVP online context, this concept becomes more fascinating. As online games are incredibly competitive, the skill floor is strongly reinforced and defined to allow a quick assessment of whether someone can play the game.
League of Legends’ skill floor in its prime used to require the player to know popular champions, understand the game’s roles and items, and have some mechanical capabilities.
However, as games grow older, so too does their skill floor. Consequently, the requirements of the game’s initial skill floor are not enough to fulfill the game’s current skill floor.
Modern League of Legends has new players study macro, rotations, champion mastery, wave management, counter builds, and much more, just to be able to participate in the game.
Like the skill floor in online games, the bar for art and creations for humanity has grown insurmountable.
There was a popular Tweet/TikTok/Reel? (I don’t know the internet steals jokes and says them louder) That said, something along the lines: “No shade to Plato or Aristotle, but I would’ve thought of the same thing if I were the 5th person to ever exist.”
Let’s momentarily ignore that due to our education and the media that inspires us, we can think like the philosophers do. Let’s also ignore that, for their time periods, these people were pioneers as they did not have access to the knowledge we do now.
I can’t help but agree and relate to this sentiment.
In the age of boundless exposure and wild creativity, we have more knowledge and more time to pursue art and create than ever. If one wanted to be an artist in older times, they needed to study art, become an apprentice, and finance the entire process. Now, expert knowledge is freely available in a few clicks, which you can immediately try out on your iPad.
The entry bar has never been lower in terms of creating art. The same thing goes for sharing it, although the exposure results can vary. It has never been easier to make art.
We have more artists than ever, and a lot of them are REALLY GOOD. Like art that will impress, change, and influence you to the core. Here are some of my favorites that you may not know:
Artist: Ramonn90
Illustrator: Safoua Slaiki
Comic Creators Group: Al Khariqun
3D Artist and Modeler: Doukkana
Author: Salma el Moumni
Rapper: Auriar
Just to name a few. If you have your favorites, please send them my way.
The point is that we are blessed to have a plethora of talented, ambitious creatives sharing their works. Unfortunately, success, relevancy, and attention are sparse currencies that are handed out one at a time.
When the winner is announced and the client hires the candidate, what happens to the rest?
Low and easy entry gate consequently leads to mountain-high selection criteria and competition. The resulting rivalry brews innovation and inspiration, leading artists to create even better art just for a chance to be picked.
The current algorithms, job positions, commissions, freelance postings, push artists to create the best, ultimate, most epic, most beautiful piece ever to exist… and then go beyond it. Invent infinity + 1, so to speak.
By the end, we are left with a graveyard of the next starry nights and an animator’s page under 100 views. Each work deserves celebration, and if it were presented in a different era, it certainly would have received due praise. We are not able to properly celebrate each piece’s merit.
There is not enough time.
Every piece of art or media created today that is deemed average would have been considered a masterpiece in the past. So, to stand out and succeed in your art now, you must make something better than the Mona Lisa just to be noticed.
It is this fact that makes it feel like we are “too late.”
What I write now is something I deem average. Occasionally, I’ll write something good. Even at my highest level, I know my work will not be better than Chuck Palahniuk’s worst essay. If I were to dedicate my life to writing (something I do not want now), I would eventually become proficient. Enough to a degree that I can write something equal to Homer. However, because I exist during the 21st century as tens of thousands of writers do, I would not get the same prestige as Homer simply because his masterpiece existed a long time ago.
Does that imply Homer is bad? No. Does that mean I’m better than Homer? Maybe eventually.
The point is, creating art has never been easier. And because it is so accessible to do so, there are more artists than ever. As a result, the competition (naturally so) has become so fierce that artists must make a 'masterpiece 2.0’ again and again.
The skill and dedication required to do so far outweighs the capabilities of previous generation of artists. Such that the “average” work of today is yesterday’s masterpiece.
Where does this leave us? Angry? frustrated? Yeah, me too.
I’m bitter that I was born too late for my work to be noticed. I certainly do not curse the fact that the modern artist needs to self-promote and shill their work on social media just for a crumb of attention. I absolutely do not mind AI stealing art and replacing jobs. I’ve never been happier to fight and beg for an invoice. I definitely enjoy another rejection email and LinkedIn job notifications.
A study from the University of Richmond taught rats how to drive a car-like vehicle. They’d mount the rats into these small cars and incentivize them with treats. Over time, they became pretty good drivers. But the researchers noticed that the rats began to drive even without rewards. They drove cars for the sake of enjoying it.
As much as I can keep talking about how cool it is for a rat to drive a car, Stuart Little style, there is something to be discussed about their motivation for driving. Initially, they learned to drive for the food reward. That was sweet, addictive. But as they became proficient on how to drive, they began enjoying the drive itself rather than the reward that came with it.
When we pursue our hobbies and create art, the initial reward is like no other. The words of praise, the momentary spotlight, and our high self-assessment become all so amusing. By the next release, friends silently like and move on, engagement dwindles, and the flaws of our work grow more and more.
It is a game of poker against the casino where we win big once in a while. Yet we hope for the big cashout every time we go all-in. When we bust, we blame ourselves for having the wrong hand.
If the creation of humanity was easily suppressed, we would have surrendered making art aeons ago. The spirit of creativity is indomitable. Even amidst war and tragedy, we continue to create. Maisara Baroud draws every day for his series of sketches “I’m Still Alive,” surviving Israel’s genocide against Palestinians.
It is agreed upon that motivation is divided into two: Intrinsic and Extrinsic. The prior essentially means that we inherently enjoy the act of creating. The internal joy and satisfaction of writing a piece and editing it (like this one you are reading) is the reason why someone would write when they’re intrinsically motivated.
The two types are by no means better than the other. We equally need both. Creating for the sake of creating is equally as motivating as receiving praise and likes for your work. However, in times when extrinsic motivation no longer exists, we need to rely on our intrinsic motivations to create.
The rats were initially extrinsically motivated, then later on developed intrinsic motivation to drive the car. Our journey with creating is simply alternating between the two.
So, for me, even in front of AI and a global reading shortage, I will continue to write at my own pace, for I enjoy the act of writing. It brings structure to my thoughts and many times unravels new ideas amidst the act of doing it. If my work happens to be appreciated by people, it gives me additional motivation to refine my writing and do better.
In summary, art has never been more accessible. In consequence, the criteria for “good art” have never been higher. The pursuit of the “ultimate” art made it so that what is deemed average now could have been a masterpiece in history. Unless we are willing to pursue our art for a lifetime, we’re very likely never going to make a modern masterpiece (i.e, a masterpiece of a masterpiece). That fact should not disincentivize you from creating, as it is intrinsic motivation that keeps us creating.
In the bigger picture, it may be too late. But the time to create something better than yesterday’s work is today.