The issue of certain video games being sold to minors is certainly not a new topic, but with the recent events that are unfolding, it is worth talking about. States have had their own quibbles on the sales to minors, but now it has blown up to where the Supreme Court is going to rule on it. This is good, in my opinion, but what I want to talk about is what it means to sell mature video games to minors.

When I was at seven years old, my parents took me to see guts and limbs and blood at the cinema. Saving Private Ryan was the film, and I remember being in awe about it. I wasn’t forming plots in my head to recreate the carnage, and I sure as hell wasn’t all of a sudden turned on to war. It was a movie, and I knew it was a movie. Before that movie I had seen dozens of other violent and mature movies—did I transform into a psychopath? No. In fact, I consider myself one of the most stable personalities in my surroundings. Mature video games should be treated no different than mature movies, music, and books. There should be a respect for the material, but also a clear understanding that the art in each respective medium is exactly that: art. It is not a guide on how to live life, otherwise,by that logic, I would be a rapist after reading (and subsequently viewing) Anthony Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange, a frequent client for prostitutes after playing each installment of Grand Theft Auto, or a pill popping mad-man with a penchant for murder after listening to Eminem’s earlier music.

Let’s go back to 2001: I was eleven years old, and Grand Theft Auto 3 was the talk of the town. My subscription to the Official Playstation Magazine had lauded the game as brilliant, and the poster declared the game a “Mafioso masterpiece”—as reviewed by Maxim. I remember being more anxious than I ever was for a game. Remember, I was eleven—an age that meant that I couldn’t purchase the game by myself at. The big fat “M” that the game received by the ESRB meant nothing to me. I had parents that really had faith in my judgment and character—an eleven year investment—and I knew right from wrong. This is the key: knowing right from wrong. It is the responsibility of parents to teach their children from young ages to know that the things that they see or hear in different media are not to be replicated, and that they are just forms of entertainment. Just because everyone laughed when they heard all of the racial slurs in Gran Torino didn’t mean that they are fine with racism. I know where the real blame should be directed by those who accuse video games for youth gone mad, but they don’t like to hear it. Parents are accountable for the actions of their children, and a lack of interest and attention to the needs of their children. How would a child, abandoned in a forest, learn the language of man? He/she wouldn’t. Behavior is all crafted from socially constructed cues that we learn from infancy to adulthood, and the biggest and most important influence is the family.

Look  at the numbers. If, by the logic of those in favor of barring minors from purchasing violent or adult themed video games, video games influence the behavior of people—or just “those under 17”—then where are the burning cities? States of emergency? The Grand Theft Auto series by itself has sold more copies than you can shake a fist at, yet there is no sudden spark in rioting, looting, or murder that can be attributed to those games. Going after video games is like going after literature—and that just leads down the road of censorship if it is to continue.

My last point to make is that, no matter what measures people may try to insist on taking place, kids are still going to get their hands on the video games. I did.