What stereotypes come to mind when you think of men serving time at a maximum security prison? Tattooed bodies? Muscle-bound physiques? Shaved heads? Cruel faces and aggressive swaggers?
I commonly see these stereotypes at Missouri’s Eastern Reception, Diagnostic and Correctional Center, where I’m incarcerated. But what might surprise you is the now-frequent sight of these dangerous-looking men hunched over tablet screens, fretting about the health and well-being of virtual sheep.
Yes, virtual sheep.
In July 2023, the for-profit prison communication company Securus began selling a game called Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town to people with tablets in state prisons. It is one of 11 Nintendo Game Boy Advance titles approved by the Missouri Department of Corrections.
The Harvest Moon video game franchise, made by the Japanese software company Natsume, debuted in North America in 1997. In 2003, Friends of Mineral Town was released as the ninth Harvest Moon game. Now, more than two decades later, the semi-obscure video game is undergoing a renaissance at my prison.
About a week after the game was made available, it was the only thing you heard many prisoners here talking about. News of Friends of Mineral Town spread quickly by word of mouth.
People in line at mealtimes discussed the health of their animals. Afternoon workers en route to their prison jobs disclosed locations of the elusive Stones of Truth. Prisoners sitting beside one another in the dayroom, tablet screens aglow, narrated their moment-by-moment progress at harvest time. A gaming community had been established.
Such was the furor for tips and strategies that a booming exchange sprang up, where people dealt in-game intel. Fourth-generation photocopies of strategy guides began to circulate.
I asked 10 players to estimate how many other Harvest Moon enthusiasts there were among our prison’s roughly 2,700 residents. Their guesses ranged from 150 to 1,200. Three of them simply said, “A lot!”
I recently approached one bearded, tattooed subject playing the game in the dayroom of our housing unit.
“Man, this is a fantastic game,” he said. “You can do just about anything. I’m mostly keeping up on my crops and trying not to turn blue in the mines right now.”
His enthusiasm is shared by many people at our prison.
Before the availability of these titles from Nintendo, options were limited to overpriced and poorly designed mobile games from small, independent developers. And many weren’t so much games as mere distractions, such as a fake fireplace and a fidget spinner simulator.
Anyone with money on their account can purchase games, download music or stream movies and TV shows on the free, state-provided electronic tablets. Nationwide, Securus offers a wider variety of titles than what Missouri has approved. It’s unclear how many states censor video games in prison, or what criteria they use in restricting access.
Part of the blame for the games’ generally low quality stems from a 2005 executive order by then-Gov. Matt Blunt that banned all video games behind bars (along with institutional showings of R-rated movies). Months before the ban, the state censored dozens of titles in response to inmates at Jefferson City Correctional Center playing such violent video games as Hitman and Grand Theft Auto. More recently, current Gov. Matt Parson softened the 2005 order, allowing select video games to be sold.
Securus offers Missouri prisoners access to 295 titles, with prices ranging from $1.01 to $25, according to a statement from parent company Aventiv. Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town is one of the pricier purchases in the media store at $9.78, but it’s one of the most expansive in game play. In fact, when the game debuted 20 years ago, IGN, a video game website, gave the game an 8.9 out of 10 rating, writing that Friends of Mineral Town was “deceptively engrossing” — “brilliant in its simplicity, but as the days go on there are so many layers that peel away and reveal themselves.”
At the start of the game, players take on the avatar of a boy who’s inherited a defunct farm from an old man he used to visit during the summer. The graphics are crudely pixelated by modern standards but deliver a surprising anime-style cuteness. After a new player names their avatar, their farm and their dog, they’re free to explore fields, mountains and valleys, as well as the streets and homes of Mineral Town, north of the farm. Along the way, they interact with characters they meet, forming relationships and developing an understanding of the social dynamics at play in the small town.
To advance, a player can forage for vegetation and medicinal grasses, plant seasonal crops, raise animals and mine minerals. By selling what they make and grow, a player earns gold that can be used to expand the farm and upgrade their house and implements. Another goal of the game is to woo and marry one of the townsfolk, then raise a child.
Time in the game passes at varying speed but has an average rate of 10 in-game minutes for every 5 real-life seconds. Many players report spending more than a decade of in-game time in Mineral Town and still finding new goals to achieve. Several have had their avatars take up cooking in order to create better dishes for the annual cooking contest in the town square.
Other events that take place during the game year include horse races, sumo-style chicken matches, cow contests, potlucks, Frisbee-throwing competitions, tea parties and more. Friends of Mineral Town offers seemingly endless play.
That’s part of the game’s appeal. The many choices for lives an avatar can lead might fulfill a prisoner’s yearning to choose how their days are structured.
An avid player named Ahmad Adisa, who’s experienced about six in-game years, says that the game’s appeal to him lies in its options.
“It’s liberating to hold responsibility for what your character experiences,” he said. “I like the excitement of achievement, the competition with other people who play.”
Other players echo this sentiment.
“Prison’s boring,” Diego said. “Any way I can spend hours of my life in a fantasy world is good for me. Also, I get to interact with personalities that don’t want to fight, rape or kill me. That’s a plus.”
One game fanatic submitted a proposal to write and host a TV show about the game. His show, “The Game Corner,” just finished a 12-episode season on the closed-circuit TV network maintained by my coworkers and me. Every week, a new episode of “The Game Corner” plays on Channel X, one of 20 unique channels that we program here. Critics have approached me to complain about “The Game Corner” host’s dry on-screen presence, but they kept watching for information about their favorite game.
Months after it debuted at our prison, Friends of Mineral Town shows no signs of having run its course. Nor was it designed to provide only short-term entertainment.
I recently learned from another player that one of the achievements can’t be attained until about 50 in-game years have passed. He showcased this amazing milestone with a guest appearance on the season finale of “The Game Corner.” He allowed viewers to witness his virtual spouse presenting his avatar with an anniversary gift: the hard-to-earn mountain cottage. He then challenged everyone watching to match his roughly 700 gameplay hours.
Long-term playability seems to have been built into the Harvest Moon model. The game evolves as a player’s interest in particular in-game activities rise and fade. I asked Harley Smith, a self-proclaimed “Harvest Mooner” on his eighth in-game year, how his play has changed since he first started the game back in July.
“Now I’m mostly farming and fishing,” he said. “Before, I did a lot of foraging.”
Diego tells me that, although his earliest pastime in the game was chasing his dog, trying to hit it with his hammer, he’s currently more interested in keeping the dog’s “heart level” up and trying to maintain a positive relationship with the townsfolk.
Research has shown that reading fiction has the power to enhance a reader’s capacity for empathy and understanding. Might certain types of video games have a similar effect?
I asked Diego if the care he now gives his digital pet signals some kind of meaningful change within him.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he said. “I named my dog Keith, after my cellmate. It was just funny to beat up on him whenever he frustrated me. Better than doing it in real life, you know?”