An Irishman's Diary

Exciting news from the world of computer games, where the next generation of technology promises to eradicate that scourge of…

Exciting news from the world of computer games, where the next generation of technology promises to eradicate that scourge of sedentary children's lives: the need to move their thumbs constantly.

In a major labour-saving advance, a US-Australian company is about to market a wire-free headset that reads brain activity and translates it directly into gaming actions on screen. The headset will use electroencephalography (EEG) to pick up electrical signals between brain cells. More than 30 facial expressions, emotions, or desires for movement can be thus detected, and transmitted electronically.

Parents of computer gamers may already be using a crude form of this technology to keep in touch with their children. I know I am - because since Christmas, when he acquired a hand-held PSP game, my eight-year-old son has been beyond the reach of conventional communication.

He plays for hours on end in a zombie-like trance. But by placing my hands on his head, I can sometimes detect electrical signals in his subconscious, saying things like "I am hungry"; "I need to go to the bathroom now"; or: "I was lying earlier when I said I had my homework done".

READ MORE

The communication works only one way, however. While playing, he does not pick up messages from the outside world, no matter how loudly transmitted. In emergencies, therefore, there is nothing for it but to grab the PSP from his hands and run.

This instantly restores consciousness, usually accompanied by panic. "No!" my son will cry on these occasions, following the PSP with his eyes like a drowning man follows a log. "I'm on level 3 now! Don't switch off, or I'll die!" For those of us who grew up before PlayStation, the only part of players' mentality we can relate to is the obsession with mortality. When I was eight, playing cowboys and Indians (Level 2), cries of "You're dead!" and "no, YOU'RE dead" punctuated every game and led to endless arguments about which, if any of us, was still alive.

Along with the exercise and fresh air we got from playing outdoors, we also acquired debating skills from trying to convince others that we had shot them fairly and squarely in the back. Or from explaining how the shot that they had supposed fatal to us had in fact ricocheted off an invisible rock and missed by inches.

Death was only ever temporary (at least in level 2). But there was both dishonour and inconvenience involved in having to lie down, even for a few seconds. We always preferred to avoid it.

Stretching a point, I can almost relate to the many PSP games that involve cars. The link is tenuous, however. There were three distinct levels in my own childhood car games, but that's where any comparison ends.

Level 1 involved playing with Francie Marron's Dinky collection - the largest assembly of four-wheeled miniatures in the neighbourhood. Level 2 was building "bogeys" - go-karts if you insist - with his brother Dessie. A mechanical genius, Dessie was never content with the basic planks, pram-wheels, and rope-steering design. He was always innovating: introducing shorter ropes, suspension, anti-lock braking, etc.

There was a heady period once when he was even thought to be on the verge on adding an engine. But somebody must have realised around then that bogeys with engines already existed, and were what adults drove around in. This was Level 3. The day Dessie acquired a second-hand Hillman Hunter and started taking us for spins around a field, I remember feeling a little wistful for the dream that had died. Suddenly, we were growing up.

Of course, parents always overrate the health benefits of their own childhoods, even in the face of hard evidence that things have improved. Take the seemingly permanent fall from fashion of short trousers, which in recent decades has seen a dramatic reduction in the incidence of scabby knees. I have yet to hear even one scare story about how lack of knee-scabs in early childhood is causing serious problems in later life.

And computer games are clearly not all bad. They buy you periods of silence (at least when the "mute" button is pressed) - which, as parents of male children in particular will appreciate, is a wonderful thing. As for physical exercise, important as it is, it can also - again when performed by small boys - be very hard on your house.

The very name PSP whispers "peace" to many harassed parents. Unfortunately, after half-an-hour or so, the cost-benefit curve of such games begins to droop - a bit like your child's spine (or so you fear), if he stays slumped over that damn console for much longer.

I suspect that next Christmas, Santa will ignore the new-generation EEG models, however exciting they are, and choose something from the opposite end of the spectrum - the so-called "exer-gaming", of which the Wii is currently most popular example.

At least this requires some physical activity.

Yes, it still looks like a cruel parody of childhood, as the real-life player hurls imaginary balls at his on-screen opponent. But on a rainy day, this is better than nothing. As a bonus, none of the balls involved will ever go through your neighbour's window. And if I'm honest anyway, I wouldn't really want my son playing around the house with home-made bows and arrows - which, now that I think of it, was the outstanding feature of Cowboys and Indians, Level 3.