Running over pedestrians. That's what it comes down to.

Let me explain. I have a mixed relationship with open-world video games, because I have needs. I need quests--even side quests--to be a tiny bit meaningful and tell a little story. I need a big-picture narrative that I can care about. I need a hero or heroine that, at least very deep down, truly is heroic. (Heroine...ic?)

And I need, need, need a world I can believe in. That means no running over pedestrians.

That brings us to Watch Dogs. I wanted to like the game, because so much of that world should have been amazing. Hacking, street chases, gun battles, stuffed animals as narrative metaphor! But then I started to drive. And then I drove too fast. And then I hit my first pedestrian. At those speeds? Yeah, she was a goner.

I didn't want that! I was determined to be the good guy, to be the white knight of Chicago, even if I did <cough> empty out some ATM's <cough>. Killing a pedestrian ruined that for me, and it soon became clear that, if I wanted to play this game, I couldn't avoid it. And what was the consequence of killing that poor mother of three? I think I lost some points. (Hope your kids enjoy the funeral, sister, because I sure won't be there!) See me, driving out of a parking lot at 5 mph, waiting for a pedestrian to walk by. That guy's crazy! shouts the pedestrian, as I ease my way through traffic toward the first part of my mission. I'm not crazy, I think. I quit.

Flash forward almost a year to Sleeping Dogs. I knew sacrifices were necessary if an undercover cop was going to make his way deep into the Triads. I hurt people, even some decent people, but I knew why I was doing it, and I accepted the guilt of my decisions. I lived a life made up of shades of gray, but I was determined to change that gray world into a world of white. (Like Mirror's Edge? you ask. No, not like Mirror's Edge. Stop asking silly questions.) Then I climbed into a car. I was careful. I drove on the left side of the road, like, apparently, you're supposed to, and I totally knew that, and I'm not ignorant about Hong Kong at all. I even waited at some red lights, like nobody ever did in any open world game.

Then the first driving mission arrived. I had to run those reckless street racers off the road, because that totally makes sense if you're trying to prevent damage and loss of life. So I did it. I accepted the wreckage of street signs and barricades that I left in my wake, I picked up the cash as I rammed through parking meters, and I didn't mind banging up the other cars around me. And then I hit my first pedestrian. I reloaded the mission. And then I hit another. I reloaded the mission again. Another. Another. ANOTHER! I was not getting through this mission without killing someone. What was the consequence of paralyzing that man from the waist down and leaving him to a life of false cheer as he misses his time on the racket ball court? I lost some points. (Racket ball isn't that great, anyway. Find a real hobby, sir, like video games! And blow your nose. You're pathetic.) Another driving mission? No, thank you. I quit.

There are no cars in Mordor. There are plenty of cars in Haran, but, at least so far, I can't drive any. And, with orcs on one hand and zombies on the other, the simple fact is, I'm supposed to KILL EVERYTHING in those worlds. It's hard to go wrong.

But not only that: In Shadow of Mordor and Dying Light, I am in control of my abilities at a level that the Dogs games took away from me whenever I sat behind the wheel of a car. I know accidents happen in real life, but in my head, I feel in control, I believe I'm in control, I have confidence that I won't accidentally kill someone today. (Or on purpose. No real killing going on here at all. Please take my name back off the watch list.)

When a game takes away that feeling of choice and control, I stop believing in the world. That guy's crazy! the game shouts. No I'm not, I think. Your game is. And I quit the game.

Running over pedestrians. That's what it comes down to.