Empathy
There is still another possible way in which play may gratify the mastery impulse. Why do we like to see a kite flying? Of course, if it is our kite and we are flying it, the mastery impulse is directly aroused and gratified; but we also like to watch a kite flown by some one else, and similarly we like to watch a hawk, a balloon or aëroplane, a rocket. We like also to watch things that balance or float or in other ways seem to be superior to the force of gravity. Why should such things fascinate us? Perhaps because of empathy, the "feeling oneself into" the object contemplated. As "sympathy" means "feeling with", "empathy" means "feeling into", and the idea is that the observer projects himself into the object observed, and gets some of the satisfaction from watching an object that he would get from being that object. Would it not be grand to be a kite, would it not be masterful? Here we stand, slaves of the force of gravity, sometimes toying with it for a moment when we take a dive or a coast, at other times having to struggle against it for our very lives, and all the time bound and limited by it--while the kite soars aloft in apparent defiance of all such laws and limitations. Of course it fascinates us, since watching it gives us, by empathy, some of the sense of power and freedom that seems appropriate to the behavior of a kite. Perhaps the fascination of fire is empathy of a similar sort; for fire is power.
Having thus found the mastery impulse here, there, and [{492}] almost everywhere in the realm of play, we are tempted to assume a masterful attitude ourselves and say, "Look you! We have discovered the one and only play motive, which is none other than the instinct of self-assertion". Thus we should be forgetting the importance in play of danger and the escape motive, the importance of manipulation for its own sake, and the importance of the mere joy in muscular and mental activity. Also, we should be overlooking the occasional presence of laughter, the occasional presence of sex attraction, and the almost universal presence of the gregarious and other social motives. Play gratifies many instincts, not merely a single one.
Further, it is very doubtful whether the whole satisfaction of play activity can be traced to the instincts, anyway, for play may bring in the native "likes and dislikes", which we saw [Footnote: [ See p. 180.]] to be irreducible to instinctive tendencies; and it may bring in acquired likes and interests developed out of these native likes. Play gives rise to situations that are interesting and attractive to the players, though the attraction cannot be traced to any of the instincts. The rhythm of dancing, marching, and of children's sing-song games can scarcely be traced to any of the instincts.
The sociability of games goes beyond mere gregariousness, since it calls for acting together and not simply for being together; and at the same time it goes beyond competition and self-assertion, as is seen in the satisfaction the players derive from good team work. It is true that the individual player does not lay aside his self-assertion in becoming a loyal member of a team; rather, he identifies himself with the team, and finds in competition with the opposing team an outlet for his mastery impulse. But at the same time it is obvious that self-assertion would be still more fully gratified by man-to-man contests; and therefore the [{493}] usual preference of a group of people for "choosing sides" shows the workings of some other motive than self-assertion. The fact seems to be that coördinated group activity is an independent source of satisfaction.
If the self-assertive impulse of an individual player is too strongly aroused, he spoils the game, just as an angry player spoils a friendly wrestling match or snowball fight, and just as a thoroughly frightened passenger spoils a trip down the rapids, which was meant to be simply thrilling. The instincts are active in play, but they must not be too active, for human play is an activity carried on well above the instinctive level, and dependent on motives that cannot wholly be analyzed in terms of the instincts.