‘Minecraft’s Enduring Impact: How the Game Continues to Transform Lives After 15 Years’

a A few days ago, while I was cleaning out my home office (which resembles a video game arcade that was recently hit by a tornado), I found a long-lost piece of technology in the bottom drawer of a file cabinet. It was an old Xbox 360, Elite model, black, heavy, clunky, and incredibly retro. Out of curiosity, I pulled it out, found the controller and power cable, and turned it on. I knew right away what to look for, but I was also worried. I would feel even worse if Minecraft was still there, or even worse if it wasn’t. Minecraft is more than just a game to me. I considered putting the console back where it belonged. But this month marks the 15th anniversary of the game’s original release, so I felt I needed to continue.

In 2012, Microsoft held a huge event in San Francisco called the Xbox Games Showcase. The company was showing off all the big hit titles of the time, including Forza, Gears of War, and Halo, but in a quiet corner, there were two demo units of the yet-to-be-released Xbox version of Minecraft. Of course, I knew about this game. Designed by Swedish studio Mojang, it is an open-world creative adventure where players can explore a vast procedurally generated world, gather resources, and build whatever they want. The game had already captivated millions of players on PC. But I had never really spent much time playing it, so I thought I’d give it a go, and ended up playing for an hour. Despite the many other games on offer, there was something about this game that drew me in. That something was Zac.

Earlier that year, our oldest son was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, confirming what we had known for years. Our 7-year-old son had a very limited vocabulary, was afraid of change, and was withdrawn and isolated at school. Worst of all, he had no way to express himself. He had poor verbal communication and hated drawing or building with Legos. He was withdrawn. But with his love of technology and games, I saw Minecraft as an escape for him.

As soon as I loaded the game onto our Xbox 360 at home, my son was hooked. He immediately loved games: they were safe, they had certain rules and structures, the music was relaxing, and he could make something with just a controller and a few button presses. In 2015, I wrote an article for The Guardian about the impact games had had on my son’s life, how they had taught him new words and new concepts, and patiently and carefully shown him that he was a creative person, too. Sadly, my feelings towards the game’s original creators were He makes many controversial statements online.but what I wrote about Minecraft itself is true: Ed Wood, an editor at Little, Brown Book Group, read the article and approached me about writing a novel based on our experiences. Boy Made of Blocks sold 200,000 copies, and Ed and I have been writing a novel together ever since. Minecraft changed my life in many ways.

At first, it seemed like I’d never find it again. I booted up my old machine, but I couldn’t sign into my Xbox Live account, and the version of the game that was on the hard drive was a trial, so I couldn’t load any saves. I was disappointed. I was sure this was the version of the game that I first played with Zach and my brother Alby, the world we’d created together. Did that world still exist, locked away on the hard drive? I had been waiting so long.

Over the past 15 years, Minecraft has had an impact on thousands of players alike.
Combating loneliness,
Discovering your gender identity,
and
Overcoming the fear of change
The Hour of Code initiative, launched in 2015, has taught basic coding principles. Since its launch, Minecraft has also been introduced into schools around the world, with a special education edition designed to help teachers use the game for classroom projects.
Imagining a sustainable future landscape To
Study Macbeth
It is also used by various charitable organizations.
Block by blockencourages communities to rethink their local environments, and the World Wildlife Fund
Raising awareness about panda conservation
It has been used as a tool to convey political messages. Reporters Without Borders has used the game
Uncensored Library
It allows people living in media-restricted countries to access banned books and articles.

The game is now much more complex than when I first played it. Regular updates add new animals, new resources, and new non-player characters, and the visuals are updated to accommodate modern technologies such as HDR. But game director Agnes Larson assures me that the company is keeping the game’s core principles intact. “We try to think about the simple beauty of Minecraft,” she says. “So we want everything new to be something that can be seen as a toy that you add to the sandbox, with a very clear objective and simple rules, because it’s simple in itself, so the player can do infinitely more complex things.”

Like Fortnite, Minecraft has become a self-contained multiverse, a place where people can come together, socialize, and play together, even when they can’t be together. “Minecraft has felt especially magical during COVID,” says Larson. “The whole world shut down, and all of a sudden we were in a completely different, tough situation. And we’ve heard from so many players that Minecraft has helped them stay in touch with their friends and family. Sometimes we hear stories of kids in the hospital who can’t go to school, but are still having fun playing with their friends in the Minecraft world.”

After hours of searching online, I found a way to use an app to access my Xbox Live account, get around the latest TFA security, and my old Xbox 360 profile was resurrected. I found the boxed game in the attic. I loaded it up, and that music started: a wilting piano piece by Daniel Rosenfeld, slow and gentle and somewhat sad. The memories came flooding back.

When Boy Made of Blocks was published, something strange happened: people started sharing their gaming experiences with me. I gave many talks about Minecraft and my novels. I spoke at NHS events, at the EU meeting in Brussels, at Comic Con, at book festivals. Almost every time I finish a talk, there are families waiting to talk to me. They are parents who care for shy children and young people. They don’t ask any questions, they just say to me, “I want you to know that Minecraft changed our lives too.” And they tell me their stories. Often it’s about attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, autism, bullying, and how hard things were and how lonely the kids were. But those stories always end with the same words: “And then they started playing Minecraft.” We share experiences, there are laughs, memories, handshakes, and sometimes tears. It’s a real honour to have such trust.

I found my old saved games. There were dozens of them. There were blocky castles with secret tunnels that led to a huge diamond mine. There was our house, each with its own rooms, filled with treasure chests. The grocery store was still there, stocked with pork chops and cakes, and a well-stocked armory, no doubt ready for adventures that never happened. Cows grazed peacefully on the farm and crops grew. It was like visiting my old family home, similar yet crucially different at the same time.

Their sons now play the video game with their friends, but as long as the game is still around, they might find themselves playing Minecraft together again. “Minecraft is intergenerational,” Larson says. “My daughter was 7, and she had school out in the early spring, so I went to my parents’, and my mom said, ‘Can you teach me Minecraft?’ So when school was out, me, my mom, and my daughter got to play together in the same world, and it was great.”

The imaginary worlds we create with our friends and our children exist as real things. Whether we grow up, grow old, or grow apart, we can still follow the same path. The worlds I shared with Zach and Alby still exist in my old game consoles, and now they are safely stored in my filing cabinet again. The things we did, the houses we built, everything remains as real as a memory.

Hopefully, many other families will have this experience in the future. Fortunately, I don’t think the game is going away. “We recognize that Minecraft is bigger than us,” Larson says. “We’re lucky that we’re taking such good care of it now, and that as we hand it over to the next generation of game developers, we’re handing it over to a Minecraft that values creativity and lets players express themselves. We try to take a very long-term view. We never add something that’s only fun the first time you play it, because we want the game to be something that people will still love 10, 15, or even 50 years from now.”

In my mind, I will always have my son, my little boy, showing us the world he built in this game, and I will always remember how he finally found a place that made sense. Minecraft is an open door, and 15 years later, that door is still open, unlocked. Anyone can enter.