Game in the Brain

Why Cling to Outdated Concepts?

As we continue to evolve, both as individuals and as a society, one question remains: why do we cling to outdated concepts? This is especially true in the realm of fantasy, where societies are often depicted as monarchies, and the structures we see are reminiscent of eras long gone. There’s something that feels off, inconsistent even—anachronisms that make us cringe as we realize how much better we understand the world today. The real issue isn’t about hating the past or those who came before us. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

Like the admiration one might feel for the life of a farmer or knight from ancient times, we can appreciate the accomplishments of our ancestors—their struggles, their triumphs, their stories—without wishing to live their lives. In the same way, I respect my parents and grandparents, but I do not want to be stuck in the world they knew. We learn from the past, but we are not bound by it.

This mindset is at the heart of Mneme: Game in the Brain. It’s about innovation, pushing boundaries, and continuously refining our understanding of the world, even in something as seemingly frivolous as a hobby. When we play with outdated concepts, whether it’s in game mechanics or depictions of society, we limit our ability to imagine what’s possible. And in the developing world, where we are often left fighting for scraps, we don’t have the luxury of clinging to traditions that no longer serve us.

The Luxury of Tradition

In wealthy, developed nations, tradition can be upheld at a cost that those of us in the developing world cannot afford. Every outdated concept we hold onto slows down progress, and we simply do not have that kind of time. To survive, we must distill the essence of what’s useful from the past and discard what no longer works. That’s not to say we don’t value our history, but we can’t be bound to it either.

I know that I, too, will eventually be forgotten, just as I am now the one who remembers my grandparents, and one day, my children will be the last to remember me. This is the cycle of life—what survives are the things that remain relevant, not the details of our individual stories. And that’s not a bad thing.

There’s a sense of liberation in accepting that the past will fade. The love I have for my descendants doesn’t depend on their remembering me or my accomplishments. True love, in my view, is given without the expectation of something in return. In the same way, I can honor my ancestors without needing to hold onto their outdated ideas or traditions. Instead, we take the lessons of the past and apply them to the future, which is exactly what Mneme: Game in the Brain strives to do.

Innovation in Mneme

Our games and techniques are built on this very principle. We come from a place where the stakes are higher, where innovation isn’t a luxury but a necessity. And so, Mneme doesn’t cling to the outdated sci-fi tropes of yesteryear. We don’t stick to arbitrary measures of displacement tons or old-fashioned societal structures. Instead, we embrace a rational, mass-based approach to spacecraft design and explore a future where post-scarcity societies function on the principles of mutual respect, trust, and reason.

The world is constantly changing, and so too must our games reflect that. Why play a fantasy rooted in outdated concepts when the real challenge, the real dream, is to imagine a future that reflects our best understanding of the world as it is and as it could be?

What Remains: A Legacy of Thought

I know I will be forgotten, as will my grandparents, and that is okay. But what I find meaningful is the time spent now—working with friends, dreaming up new ideas, innovating where we can. The hobby we share in Mneme is how I choose to appreciate my life, especially as I get older. It is through this simple act of creativity and play that I find joy, not in the hope of being remembered.

Yet, my tiny vanity is that maybe, just maybe, some small part of what I contribute will remain. The frameworks we create, the tools for critical thinking, the techniques that stretch back thousands of years—perhaps some piece of this will continue. Perhaps the mnemonic devices we develop in Mneme will be used in the far future, by people managing the complexities of orbital mechanics or navigating the challenges of habitats across millions of stars.

But even if it doesn’t, that’s okay. What matters is the process, the innovation, and the connections we build along the way.