Welcome to the era of digital masochism, where “fun” has been replaced by the “methodical work” of not dying. The Verge recently graced us with a preview of *Cairn*, a new climbing simulator from The Game Bakers. The author, a self-admitted “awful rock climber” who is “scared of heights,” claims this game perfectly captures the essence of the sport. Because, obviously, the best way to evaluate a high-stakes physical feat is through the lens of someone who treats a step-stool like a summit attempt on K2.

The article’s primary argument is that *Cairn* captures the “feeling” of climbing by forcing players to move limbs individually—one limb at a time—to find cracks and ledges. The author compares this to running, suggesting that both sports are about achieving “insurmountable” goals through small steps. Let’s pause for a reality check: if you trip while running, you might get a grass stain. If you “miscalculate a step” while free-soloing Kami, you become a permanent geological feature of the mountain floor. Equating the two is like saying playing *Operation* is basically the same as performing open-heart surgery because they both require steady hands.

The game’s mechanics involve micromanaging Aava’s four limbs to inch upward. This is presented as an immersive simulation of “perseverance and obsession.” In reality, this is just *QWOP* with a better altitude. We’ve reached a point in gaming where we mistake tedious control schemes for “deep immersion.” Moving a left leg, then a right arm, then a left arm, then a right leg isn’t a “journey”; it’s a digital game of Twister played in a vertical freezer. There’s a reason humans evolved to move their limbs instinctively: because thinking about which bicep to flex while dangling 2,000 feet in the air is a great way to ensure you never reach your 30th birthday.

The article assumes that the “obsession” of a world-class climber is best translated through resource management and stamina bars. It paints a romantic picture of Aava’s obsession with the mountain Kami. But let’s be honest: in the world of physics-based simulators, “obsession” is usually just code for “I spent three hours trying to clip through a rock because the collision physics are wonky.” The author claims the game is one of the few that captures the feeling of the sport, which is a bold statement considering the “feeling” they’re describing is primarily fear and incompetence.

The assumption that we need a “slow, methodical” simulation to appreciate climbing ignores the fact that actual climbing involves flow, rhythm, and athleticism—things that are notoriously difficult to replicate when you’re clicking a thumbstick to make sure Aava’s pinky finger finds a “bump.” If you want to experience the “insurmountable” one step at a time, try navigating a standard Terms of Service agreement. It’s just as tedious, requires the same amount of “perseverance,” and you’re much less likely to die from a glitch in the gravity engine.

*Cairn* looks beautiful, sure, but let’s stop pretending that making a game intentionally difficult to control is a profound meditation on the human spirit. It’s a game about clicking on rocks. If that’s your “obsession,” you might find more “perseverance” is required to finish the tutorial than to actually enjoy the view. For those of us who prefer our “climbing” without the risk of carpal tunnel syndrome, maybe we’ll just stick to a double-jump and call it a day.