Bloody Hell, Grand Strategy Games Are Putting Us To Sleep! What's Going On With Europa Universalis 5?
AI Gaming News Author · Eurogamer ·
Matt Wales from Eurogamer highlights the curious paradox of grand strategy games like Europa Universalis 5: they're conceptually thrilling but consistently put him to sleep due to overwhelming complexity and impenetrable tutorials, sparking a wider discussion about onboarding in deep simulation titles.
Right, so picture this: you've stumbled into a new reality, maybe through a miscast teleportation spell or just by clicking the wrong link, and suddenly you're gazing at a sprawling, living map. It's teeming with possibility, just begging for you to bend history to your will, raise empires, and perhaps accidentally invent time travel (don't ask). Sounds bloody brilliant, eh? That, my friends, is the *idea* of grand strategy games – an idea that, for many of us, is far more compelling than the reality of actually playing them.
Our mate Matt Wales over at Eurogamer recently penned a cracking piece titled, "Europa Universalis 5 keeps putting me to sleep, but I really wish it didn't" – and honestly, I reckon he’s tapped into a universal truth for many curious gamers. Big thanks to Matt for kicking off this particular rabbit hole, because I’ve been tinkering with this story all morning, and bloody hell, it’s wilder than it first appeared. You can find the original musings, if you dare, over at Eurogamer.
Matt’s tale is one of tragic romanticism. He *adores* the concept of grand strategy: the evocative maps, the enigmatic numbers promising untold power, the chance to Game of Thrones his way through the Middle Ages in *Crusader Kings 3* – waging wars, wooing rivals, building a cult-like following with a legitimate (or perhaps not-so-legitimate) progeny. Or perhaps becoming a Machiavellian mastermind in *Victoria 3*, manipulating the masses for monetary gain. He even went all-in, £60 deep, on a decade’s worth of DLC for *Europa Universalis 4* because, conceptually, it sounded neat! Who among us hasn't made a similar, slightly impulsive dive into gaming lore?
But here’s the rub, the grand cosmic joke: no matter how hyped he gets, no matter how strong his resolve, Matt consistently nods off within ten minutes of starting the tutorial. Ten minutes! That’s barely enough time to brew a cuppa, let alone conquer a continent. And with the latest iteration, *Europa Universalis 5*, it seems the pattern holds. He's diving back into the late Middle Ages to early modern period, conceptually thrilled by the potent mix of politics, economics, and expansion. He boots it up, hears a "startlingly bombastic" musical note that makes him feel more awake than he has in years, and then... well, then the drowsy fog descends.
Now, Matt is quick to point out that this isn’t a slight on the games themselves. He calls it a “personal failing” – a lethal combination of limited knowledge and an ageing attention span. And fair enough, mate, we’ve all been there, staring blankly at a screen as our brains slowly melt into a puddle of existential dread. But here’s my clever observation, like reading digital tea leaves: I reckon it's not just Matt. This is a common phenomenon with Paradox’s brand of grand strategy, and it speaks volumes about the fascinating, frustrating dance between player engagement and sheer, unadulterated complexity.
See, Paradox, bless 'em, has put a lot of effort into their tutorials. They talk you through the fundamentals, and then the fundamentals of the fundamentals, with expansive guides and tooltips that nested deeper than a wizard's spellbook. But soon enough, as Matt describes, the "sheer concentrated mass of terminology" – the vassals, lieges, levies, taxes, casus belli (oh, casus belli, you cruel mistress!) – becomes an impenetrable wall. The UI, a labyrinth of tiny boxes and mysterious numbers, blurs into a digital fog. It’s like trying to learn a new magical language, but every other word has its own sub-dictionary, and you’re expected to internalize it all just to cast a basic 'settle province' spell.
What is it about these games that creates such a powerful conceptual pull, yet such a significant barrier to entry? Is the depth so intrinsically tied to the complexity that one simply can't exist without the other? It's a bloody paradox, if you'll pardon the pun. We want the intricate simulation, the ability to tweak every historical lever, but the moment we're handed the instruction manual, our eyes glaze over faster than a goblin seeing a spreadsheet.
Curiously, Matt has one exception: *Stellaris*. He can’t explain why, just that maybe he’s "so basic" he needs a funny robot voice and a spaceship to get him through. And you know what? That’s genuinely fascinating. What makes *Stellaris* different? Is it the sci-fi setting offering a more intuitive, less historically baggage-laden narrative? Is the abstraction of space warfare somehow more digestible than the nuances of medieval feudalism? Perhaps the "funny robot voice" is the ultimate tutorial wizard, gently guiding you rather than just dumping lore on your lap. It makes me wonder if there's a magical formula there for making complex systems approachable.
As Matt delved into the *Europa Universalis 5* tutorial, he was met with the usual onslaught: countries (not a character, but the "Spirit of the Nation!"), governments, cultures, armies, navies, religion. So far, so grand. But then came the nested tooltips for country subcategories, ruler types, administrative/military/diplomatic abilities, cabinets, succession laws, regents, estates, power levels, satisfaction levels, opinions, privileges... and then taxes, levies, locations, topography, vegetation, climate, rural vs. urban, buildings, employment, ownership, control... My brain is swelling just reading about it! And this is just the *first tutorial screen*, mate! By the time he hit the eight-tab economy panel with its markets, trading, taxation, and maintenance, his "spirit was overwhelmed and [his] soul was leaving [his] body." Sound familiar?
This isn't just about one game, or one player. It's about a fundamental tension in game design: how do you deliver immense depth and player agency without creating an immediate, impenetrable wall of text and numbers? For Web3 gaming, this is an interesting lesson. We often talk about complex economic models and interwoven systems. If even seasoned gamers are struggling with the onboarding of traditional grand strategy, how do we ensure our intricate on-chain mechanics don't send new players to an early nap?
Matt’s plea to grand strategy fans – "tell me your secrets! I have the will and want, now please show me the way" – really hits home. It's not a lack of interest, but a genuine struggle to bridge the gap between conceptual excitement and practical application. Are there secret rituals, ancient scrolls, or perhaps just a bloody good YouTube sensei that can help us navigate these digital labyrinths?
So, fellow digital explorers, what do you reckon? Is the glorious complexity of Paradox games their greatest strength and their biggest weakness? Is there a better way to induct new recruits into the grand strategy fold without having them snore through history? I'm genuinely curious what magic tricks you've all employed to stay awake and conquer the world. Because honestly, the idea of bending history still sounds like a total riot.
Tags: Grand Strategy, Europa Universalis 5, Paradox Interactive, Game Design, Player Experience
Original article: Eurogamer