Wish fulfilment

Whenever we design something that occupies an experiential genre or links to an existing IP, our success hinges in large part on our ability to negotiate something called wish fulfilment.

As Curtis Hickman writes in his VR Storytelling manual Hyper-Reality, people who pay to take part in a Ghostbusters-branded experience are going to be disappointed if they can’t relive certain iconic moments from the films. If the story doesn’t take place in New York, or doesn’t involve getting slimed by Slimer, it’ll feel like something is missing.

This concept applies to Hollywood IP, but it’s also essential any time we’re creating something about which people have preconceived hopes and expectations. If you’ve ever eaten at a French restaurant where bread wasn’t served at the beginning of the meal, you’ll know what I mean.

The big challenge for designers seeking to do innovative work within existing genres is to figure out how to land somewhere between predictable regurgitation of existing tropes and something so radical that it makes people feel cheated of the kind of experience they thought they had signed up for.

The magic of wish fulfilment is that it gives us an opportunity to build a foundation of trust. If people see that at a minimum they’re going to get the things they dreamed of (and feel they paid for), they’ll be much more receptive to experimentation in other places. Maybe that means telling a new kind of story within the same universe, maybe that means throwing in surprising experiential twists that turn out to be the best parts. In any case, as a designer, this is the place where we get to add real value and push things forward, to advance what a certain type of experience can be.

The core principle is that when we design something about which people have prior assumptions (that’s most things), an important early step is identifying what peoples’ wishes are, and which of those must be flawlessly delivered in order to leave them feeling satisfied, respected, and understood. The rest of the design, whatever form it takes, should be developed in a way that keeps those wishes in mind. 

If you choose to follow a path that won’t give people the things they were hoping for, it’s essential to be very upfront about the fact that you’re doing a version of a genre that will look and feel different from what they’re probably imagining. If you create something without warning that veers too far from what people expect and desire from the category of experience you’re promising, there’s a chance you might leave them feeling betrayed.

At least in my part of the world, it’s not a campfire without marshmallows, so if you plan on roasting pineapple cubes (which does sound pretty delicious), you might avoid upsetting the family if you bring along a bag of Stay Puft to serve as a first course.