"For the vast majority of players, even those who regularly play and enjoy violent games, violence was not a plus," study lead author Andrew Przybylski, a Rochester graduate student, said in a news release issued by the university.

The plus isn’t for the player, necessarily. But what violence does do is communicate clearly.

"Kill or be killed" is a primal and simple way to explain to a Player their relationship between themselves and the other objects in the world. And their first goal will be to find out just how the game intends to let them do that.

It’s certainly not the only way, nor is it going to be popular with a lot of demographics, but everyone gets it, whether they like it or not. Violence avoids the need to try and create a context for why I might you might want to match three of a similar object together.  Gore shows you that you’ve done the right thing, because if something is exploding into a shower of blood, then you probably did what you were supposed to do.

The research, consisting of two online surveys and four experimental studies, found that overcoming hurdles, getting a feeling of accomplishment and having multiple choices for strategy and action appealed the most to seasoned video gamers and novices alike.

There are reasons to not use violence and gore as your basic toolset, but the above quote confuses cause and effect. Games use violence because it communicates accomplishment and helps you overcome hurdles, not because it feels good to be violent.

As games become more socialized violence will probably become a tool favored more by cooperative games (us vs. them) than head to head play (you vs. me).  After all, it’s far more socially acceptable to shoot a computer generated monster than your best friend.

Flash has come a long way over the last decade, and the games are getting better all the time, even if they’re not quite up to application quality in terms of stability and power. So it’s easy to forget that there are inherent technical and practical limitations that come from running a game inside an browser application designed to work across multiple operating systems and desktops.

In some ways those limitations are good thing. And interestingly, it’s also something they share with their big brothers on core platforms like the Xbox and the Wii. It changes how they need to be structured, because in both cases you never know when the user is going to decide to suddenly shut off the application.

Traditional games are primarily focused on the experience of play. It’s the old "gameplay is everything" model, and while that’s still important, the equation has changed a bit. What a social player is most concerned about is status. After all, telling other people about how you’re doing is what Facebook does best, whether it’s what you’re watching, reading, thinking, or playing. In the end your "wall" is a billboard that gives you a chance to let other people know what you’re up to. It wasn’t all that long ago that only Presidents and movie stars got the kind of attention we’re all getting now.

And if you look at the early social platform successes, you can see that while the gameplay isn’t all that compelling your status is clearly something they all have in common. X-Wars games like Mob Wars are constantly telling you where you’re at, what you need, and what’s next. Scrabulous was also a strong a status game. It constantly let players know when it was their turn, and immediately gave them a "lay of the land" when they saw the game board. For users of these applications "where am I at?" can be almost as important as "what’s next?"

With players coming to your games looking for five minutes of fun you need a place for them to start and end that experience, and a strong status screen is always going to be the place to call home.