Despite being two whole years older than I am (and I’m dating myself), one of my consistently favorite games of all times is Robotron. The hectic arcade shooter (which can be played for free here) features a scientist who must shoot wave after wave of killer robots while saving men, women, and children from almost certain doom. Just a regular game that I can play for a few minutes without using any brain cells.

At least, that’s what I thought it was until my friend noticed a curious pattern while watching me play a game.

After five waves, she said, "You realize you save all the women first before you save anyone else, right?"

Huh?

I grabbed a tape and saddled up my VCR to record a quick session of the game. I tried to just blank my mind – get in that weird arcade gaming hypnotism where you’re barely even paying attention. Afterwards, I watched it and found that, yep, I almost consistently picked up the grotesque female-shaped humans before almost anything else, even prior to shooting the robots. Why?

As far as modern games go, Robotron is simple. Shoot the robots, get points. Touch the non-robot humans, get more points. Every so often, get enough points and you get an extra life, which allows you to do more of the same. Naturally, the further you progress in the game, the more robots are trying to kill you and the more lives you lose.

With its eight-way shooting and walking, the key to playing Robotron is to notice what’s on the screen and where it’s moving. Hence, you need to spot each and every piece of movement and identify the risk associated with being near it.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, when I see the women on screen, they gain a higher value to save (or one might argue get out of the way) than children or men do. The women in the game don’t have a higher point value than any of the other innocent folks do, either. I’m instinctively adding additional, intangible value to a representation of character in the game. Somehow, I think I’ll get score extra points (pun intended) if I save someone of the fairer sex from the metallic claws of death.

Yet I find it very curious that my hands just move the scientist towards women. As blocky 1982 sprites, they don’t possess the same blatant sexual value that modern game bust-busters do today. Hell, they’re barely anthropomorphic – just pink dresses, blonde hair, and shoes. But they get scooped up first all the same like they were going out of style (and, according to the game’s story, they are).

Maybe there’s some deeper psychological reason for wanting to save the women first. Or perhaps the D&D role-player in me knows the story of the game, so I unconsciously figure out some obtuse Dr. Strangelove plan for the reproduction of the species after the apocalypse. Who knows?

All I can figure is the rather obvious and already cliched idea that modern game developers may have been thinking with the wrong head when creating female characters. If I can pick up every deformed sprite-chick I see in a twenty-three year old arcade shooter without thinking, I would guess that male gamers in general might interest in female game characters beyond their breast-size and camel-toe. And no, Aeris doesn't count as an existing modern example; she was stacked like a brick house.

Those Robotron babes are wearing some pretty conservative outfits to boot!