
Klondike solitaire.
Please note that when I write “solitaire”, I am discussing the Klondike solitaire card game. I did not realize until a few years ago that what I knew as simply “solitaire” was actually a more specifically named game.
Solitaire is commonly referred to, considered, and accepted as a card “game”. However, there’s no game involved here. There is no skill or intuition, no physical contest, no adversary. It’s more like a puzzle, but a very simple puzzle. There’s only relatively few options offered to the player at any given time, and the search space is just plain tiny, if you’re into the whole computer science thing (cf. the search space for chess is huuuge).
So solitaire isn’t really a game, and is barely a puzzle. And yet it is so enthralling. People will even watch over your shoulder when you’re playing (“no, put the red seven on the black eight…”), thus is the allure of solitaire.
People sometimes ask me why I enjoy playing with my Rubik’s Cube, even though I already know how to solve it (and know that I can solve it). I believe that the answer here and the reason solitaire is even tolerable are the same.

Rubik's Cube.
Solving the Rubik’s Cube and “solving” solitaire both ask the player to follow a relatively short algorithm, i.e. a finite set of steps for performing actions based on the given state of the system, which involves recognizing patterns and applying known rules. The human mind seems to delight in patterns. Patterns, analogies, isomorphisms, symmetries, relationships, etc. comprise our souls. For some reason, trying to find these patterns and apply the rules quickly gives us some satisfaction. Getting lucky and flying through a handful of steps in the algorithm is exponentially more gratifying (e.g.. flipping over a bunch of face down cards and being able to place them immediately). The best part about solitaire is that it culminates in an extremely symmetrical, four part chorale of awesomeness, and the Rubik’s Cube has an equivalent catharsis. There’s nothing like finding order in chaos.
Pretty cool, right? I haven’t thought that much about this; are there any other games or puzzles like this that are simple yet satisfying?

5 May 2009 at 4:42 pm |
Maybe that’s why I like repeating patterns in photographs. I tend to want to take photos of, say, oars that are all lined up, or 2 x 4’s, or whatever. As long as it’s a repeating pattern, I’m drawn to it.
Maybe the visual repeating pattern is more appealing to my simple mind than the Rubik’s Cube puzzle.