What ‘pop’ is to music, ‘casual’ is to video games. Broad, accessible, familiar, and widely appealing. There’s no one set formula to make a casual game, unlike an RPG or a 2D platformer. Casual games are not defined by one visual style, platform, or level of difficulty, but by how easily they invite people in, and how they can broaden the perception of what games are for people not familiar with the form. They are games for short breaks, social gatherings, classrooms, family living rooms, commutes, and quiet moments of reflection. These games are sometimes dismissed as shallower or less real than ‘hardcore’ gaming, but casual gaming’s history shows the opposite. Casual games have repeatedly expanded who can play, where they can be played, and what ‘playing’ a video game can even mean.
In the early 1970s, the technology behind video games was extremely limited, meaning that before video games had their own language, they had to borrow from games people already understood. The Magnavox Odyssey, released in 1972 and often considered the very first video game console, offered very simple games with basic visuals and straightforward rules, largely adapted from traditional games. Games like Roulette, Simon Says, States and the abundance of sports titles can be considered some of the first casual games ever made. Without the context of what video games would be in the future, a console was seen more as a functional tool, increasing accessibility for physical games that might require specialist equipment, with the Odyssey even including some non-electronic accessories to make it “more like the physical games that existed at the time”. People like what they know, and adaptations of sports or traditional games are largely considered casual even now.
At the same time, early arcade games also relied on simple mechanics, because their hardware could not support much complexity. Games such as Pong were easy to understand almost instantly: move a paddle, hit the ball, try to score. This simplicity, and their financial accessibility with the low low cost of one quarter per try, naturally made them appealing to many kinds of players, including people who would not have considered themselves ‘gamers’, not that such classification even necessarily existed at the time. Having games physically in an arcade also made the experience naturally social, unlike home console releases. At this time, games weren’t casual by design; they were casual by limitation.
During the 1980s, home consoles became more powerful, and game design grew more complex. Nintendo played a major role in shaping this era, especially with the Nintendo Entertainment System. Games became longer, more structured, and more demanding – not just about getting a high score anymore. ‘Nintendo hard’ titles like Ninja Gaiden and Ghosts ’n Goblins give even the most skilled gamer trouble today, and even though many of these games were marketed toward children, there’s no doubt many casual fans of games in the ’70s steered clear of the bigger NES titles, as well as the high price tag of many consoles at this time. This period helped create a clearer divide between dedicated (hardcore) players and occasional (casual) players.
However, casual appeal did not disappear. Games such as Tetris and Bubble Bobble showed that simple rules and colourful design could still reach a wide audience. Tetris in particular was important because it was easy to learn, endlessly replayable, and not tied to a traditional fantasy or action theme. The 1989 release of the Game Boy also helped casual gaming grow through portability. Players could now engage with games in short sessions on the move, which encouraged a different kind of play from sitting in front of a television for hours.
The 1990s was the decade of the office drone. Millions of workers sat in front of a computer for eight hours a day, filing reports and browsing documents, wishing they could break free and turn into Stone Cold Steve Austin or Neo. While they couldn’t punch their boss in the face, there was one way they could get back at the system — waste time playing games. Microsoft Solitaire, Minesweeper, and later FreeCell became some of the most widely played games in the world, not because they were marketed as entertainment or a challenge, but because they were already installed on computers people used every day. They helped normalise the idea that games could be part of everyday life rather than a separate hobby requiring special hardware. Microsoft Solitaire was inducted into the World Video Game Hall of Fame in 2019, and described as “paving the way for the growth of the casual game market.”
Some games aimed not to distract, but to teach. Titles like The Oregon Trail, Reader Rabbit, Math Blaster, and Where in the World Is Carmen Sandiego? were not always treated like “real” games in the same way console or arcade titles were, but that was why they reached such a wide audience. Parents and teachers could justify them as learning tools, while children experienced them as approachable, low-pressure games. The perception of gaming as a degenerative hobby only enjoyed by fat, pale-skinned children in basements was directly challenged, and another casual subgenre was popularised — the ‘edutainment’ game.
Another important casual strand related to this ‘edutainment’ is a style that does not seem to have an official name, but I like to call it ‘creative casual’. Games such as Mario Paint, released for the SNES in 1992, gave players tools for drawing, animation, stamp-making, and music composition. This was further enhanced by the use of peripherals, such as mice, drawing pads or musical instruments. This side of the casual genre influenced later games like Minecraft which, though not always considered a casual game, has a deeply casual side in its creative mode, where players can build, decorate, experiment, and express themselves without needing to interface with any kind of story (even leading to the Minecraft Education pack made directly for learning). This kind of casualness is based less on simplicity and more on low-pressure self-expression.
In the 2000s, casual game design became much more deliberate and oriented towards ‘party’ social games. The Nintendo Wii was a major turning point: players didn’t get it for the graphics or big, hyped AAA titles (though the Wii does have an underrated game library), they got it for Wii Sports, and because all their friends could play Wii Sports too. Anyone could understand the idea of swinging a controller like a tennis racket or bowling ball, from your five-year-old sister to your eighty-year-old grandma. The console was defined by its accessibility in a way that no other mainstream game console had ever been before. This motion-control-to-casual connection would attempt to be capitalised on by Xbox’s Kinect to milder success.
In the late 2000s, mobile phones became the ultimate platform for the casual gamer. Everyone had one, you could take it wherever you went, the games were either free or very cheap and they could be played during pretty much any down time. Stuck on the bus? Play Doodle Jump. Can’t sleep? Play Candy Crush. The social aspect really cranked up at this point because everyone had Facebook or Twitter just a click away on their phone too, leading to the immense popularity of games like Farmville. The barrier between real life and ‘game life’ was slowly fading away, infiltrating the global consciousness slowly with rewards for daily play and connecting with others.
This period also helped popularise idle and incremental games, where the act of playing could be reduced almost to checking in. Games like Cookie Clicker, AdVenture Capitalist, and others turned progress itself into the main attraction. Instead of demanding constant attention, they rewarded patience, routine, and repeated short visits. They create pleasure in the most simple, monkey-brained way: number go up, upgrade achieved, human is happy. No complex aim training or dexterity needed, just a clicking finger, and casual in a base sense of enjoyability that anyone can appreciate.
Alongside mobile and social media games, another form of casual play developed around simply hanging out. Games and virtual worlds such as Habbo Hotel, Club Penguin, Second Life, Roblox, and later social spaces inside games like Fortnite showed that play did not always need to revolve around clear objectives or even any kind of active play at all. The appeal was chatting, dressing up an avatar, decorating a room, attending an event, role-playing, or just existing in the same digital, second space as other people. The casual appeal of these games is the same casual appeal of a social club, or a round at the pub.
Casual gaming also blurred the boundary between games and other forms of media. Visual novels, while not always strictly casual, sit somewhere between literature and games, relying more on reading, choice, character attachment, and atmosphere than mechanical challenge, giving literature fans a gateway into the gaming market. Meanwhile, virtual concerts and live events in games such as Fortnite showed that games could act as platforms for other artforms. The game became a conduit for other mediums, in the same way a choose-your-own-adventure book can be seen as a gamified version of its own medium.
The rise of what would later be called ‘hyper-casual’ games, such as endless runners, also shaped the late 2000s and early-to-mid 2010s. This subgenre is characterised by being built around one simple mechanic, minimal controls, and very short play sessions. They were designed to be understood within seconds. Hyper-casual design pushed accessibility to an extreme: the player should know what to do almost immediately, and failure should lead quickly into another attempt. It was no longer just about being easy to play; it was also about being instantly engaging, addictive even. Even platforms like Smart TVs got in on this trend. If it had a screen, it could probably play Subway Surfers.
In the late 2010s and early 2020s, another form of casual gaming became especially important: cozy games. The COVID-19 pandemic played a major role in this shift. During the isolation of extended lockdown, many players turned to games that offered comfort, routine, and low-pressure interaction, like Animal Crossing: New Horizons. It was a broadly personal form of casualness that was almost the antithesis of the traditional formula — no pressure to try again, no short, fast, high-fructose sugar blasts of colourful content. It was like a virtual hug offered through the screen.
Casual games are often dismissed as simple, but their simplicity is usually the result of careful design. Whether it be social play, addictiveness, education, distraction, accessibility, or comfort, these games were majorly important for increasing the acceptance of gaming as an artform, and breaking down barriers for entry so that everyone had something they enjoyed. While video gaming is not as canonised as music, television or film, its uniquely adaptable form of interaction allows it to fit into almost any part of everyday life. Casual games prove this better than almost any other genre: they can be a five-minute distraction, a family activity, a learning tool, a social space, or a source of emotional comfort. In doing so, they show that games do not need to be complex, difficult, or traditionally ‘serious’ to be culturally meaningful. Sometimes, you just want to play Wii Sports.
