How Games Represent Farming: Five Types and What They Mean

This essay is adapted from the paper [Lee Kyung-hyuk (2026), "How Is Agriculture Imagined in Games: Types of Agricultural Representation in Digital Games and Their Social and Cultural Meaning," Rural Society, vol. 36(1), 349–407]. The original can be read via the KCI link (here).

How Does Farming Reach the City Gamer at the PC?

In 2020 a rather striking thing happened in the world of games, in Korea and Japan at nearly the same moment: a single game brought down the websites of both countries' rural development agencies. Sakuna: Of Rice and Ruin, a platform-action game that folded the rice farming central to East Asia's food supply into surprisingly fine detail, sent its players hunting down every scrap of agricultural information they could find—because in this game, the minutiae of growing rice are effectively what governs the character's growth. This longing for a virtual paddy field flattened the servers and made the news.

That digital games take up agriculture is hardly rare. A fair number of games set out in earnest to represent the processes of farming and to make their fun out of that representation, and even where it is not the representation of farming as such, many studios have carried on the attempt to fold some process familiar to us, under the heading of "agriculture," into the rules of a game. And yet if we put on a slightly more serious face and ask back what this "agriculture," this "farming," actually is, we find that people think about, examine, and give meaning to the very same word and concept from quite different angles.

That the digital game—a medium that handles process—represents agriculture is something we cannot afford to miss when we want to examine how the concept of agriculture is understood in a modern society where the non-farming population is overwhelmingly the larger. But whereas there exists research asking what the story of farming and the countryside in the film Little Forest implies, there has been no study asking what it means for us when farming is handled in games.

This essay collects the contents of the paper that set out from precisely that question: "How Is Agriculture Imagined in Games: Types of Agricultural Representation in Digital Games and Their Social Meaning" (Rural Society, vol. 36, no. 1). The paper sorts the representations of agriculture appearing in digital games since the 2000s into five broad types, and tries to analyze how each type represents today's agriculture and countryside. The five types of agriculture and rurality represented in games appear as the pastoral way of life, the industrial management system, the reproductive apparatus for survival, the growth-support system, and the time-mechanism of cyclical recurrence—and each reveals, from a different vantage, how we perceive the idea of agriculture and the countryside.

Pastoral Farming, Industrial Farming, Survival Farming

The first type, agriculture as a pastoral way of life, is the type—represented by Stardew Valley—that renders farming and the countryside with a strong dose of the so-called "healing" element. In Stardew Valley, where the protagonist, sick of a regimented city life, moves to the country to rebuild and live on a farm, agriculture is drawn less as the mere production of crops than as a total set of relations encompassing the countryside as a lived space and the human networks woven within it. The so-called "rurality" carried in the word agriculture is the trait of farming and the countryside most prominently represented in Stardew Valley.

Games that, carried down from titles like Harvest Moon, place this representation of rurality at their center want to see agriculture as one part of a pastoral way of life. What matters more than competition, risk, market, and production is the sense of stability, recovery, and settling in. To draw agriculture and the countryside as a space of such emotionally settled relations is a pattern that has already appeared in other media under the concept of the "rural idyll"—the way the aforementioned Little Forest, or Country Diaries, portray the countryside as a "space brimming with human warmth" set against the city being the representative cases.

Such games, treating agriculture as a pastoral way of life, are counted as the type that effectively represents the farming game even if their numbers are not large—and the danger of drawing agriculture and the countryside as so romantic a space is a pattern already pointed out in other media. The rural sociologist Lee-Ann Sutherland conceptualized the image of agriculture and the countryside held by city dwellers who encounter farming only through games at their computers as the "desk-chair countryside," pointing out that this is a third way of understanding the countryside and farming, distinct both from living and farming in the countryside oneself and from looking at an image of the countryside someone else has made, as in a film or a novel.

The second type is agriculture as an industrial management system. This type, represented by Farming Simulator, unlike the preceding one, strips farming of romance and human relations and handles only agriculture within a market system of crop production, distribution, and sale. Games of this type see crops not so much as food but, like factory-made goods sold on the market, as one kind of commodity, and they seek to represent a production process carried out not through communion with nature but through modernized equipment and systems, in mass quantities. If we split the image of agriculture in two, the earlier type would be closer to "farming in the countryside" and this one closer to "the farming of an agribusiness corporation."

What most distinguishes the industrial-management type of farming game from the other types discussed below is that it looks at agriculture and its produce solely as a commodity relation. In Farming Simulator the player neither eats nor cooks the produce of farming; wheat and corn are portrayed as valuable only once they have been turned into cash through sale. It is a type best read as a representation of farming in spaces like North America—running mechanized agriculture on large tracts of land—rather than the small family farms and village-scale cooperation of Korean agriculture.

The third type is agriculture as a reproductive apparatus for survival, perhaps the one most universally dissolved into all sorts of games. On the premise of a rule that says you die if you do not eat, agriculture is folded into games with survival rules as a part of securing food to stay alive. Don't Starve—a game whose very name stands for this concept—is the representative case: at the outset, food is procured by gathering and hunting, but later it shifts toward stabilizing the survival of the group's members by getting farming properly underway and folding it into a system of mass production.

In the end the farming games of this type, too, come to possess a mass-production system at their final stage; but unlike the games handling agriculture as an industrial management system, here this mass production functions mostly as a device for "the survival of the members." In most survival and management-simulation games, where production must gradually be increased as the population grows, food is incidentally an element of trade but is fundamentally put to the use of "eating." The primal and fundamental aim of agriculture—creating food to live by, producing the edible in a game where not eating means death—is what this type of game represents.

Farming as Growth Support, or as a Time-Mechanism

The fourth type is games in which agriculture is handled as a growth-support system. A game like Sakuna: Of Rice and Ruin does not insert a rule that you starve to death if you do not eat, yet to raise the character's stats you must produce food and eat it. This is a type that also appears universally across many role-playing games to which no hardcore survival rule applies, dovetailing with the way food functions as a kind of buff in games like World of Warcraft.

The fourth type proceeds under the notion that agriculture and food share in "food and medicine having one source" (食藥同原)—the idea that by eating, one grows stronger in body and mind. It is closer to a second layer laid down after the "you die if you do not eat" concept has been set as the groundwork: you grow stronger by eating, and to pursue that strength you must make something to eat. That players in the early days of World of Warcraft called the act of circling respawn zones to gather buff herbs "radish farming" speaks to the same context.

The last, fifth type is one whose status as a representation of agriculture may itself be in doubt: agriculture as a time-mechanism of cyclical recurrence. It is easiest to grasp by looking back at the agriculture that appeared in FarmVille, which swept the West in the 2010s, and in many similar social network games.

The agriculture in such games has the skeleton of farming—the production and harvest of crops—but examined closely, its structure is closer to the platform-designed cycle of revisits, the retention structure, dressed in the outer skin of agriculture. Such social games all share a structure of issuing a command to make or build some particular thing, which is then completed hours or days later; and the sowing-harvest cycle of agriculture entered as one of these. Agriculture represented this way becomes possible by being received from gamers as an industry in which harvest is possible only after waiting a fixed span of time. The cyclical structure of sowing seeds, then waiting and reaping, works as an element of persuasion that lets gamers naturally wait for the reward they want from the platform. The various images of countryside and agriculture discussed above matter little in this type. The key piece of evidence is that this type appears, in the first place, only when the user's revisit cycle is being designed on a mobile or online basis.

Chewing Over the Deeper Meaning of Saying We Understand Agriculture Through Games

To say that games handle agriculture, then, can by no means be generalized into a single way. All five types are representing agriculture, but as we have seen, the concept of agriculture itself is understood differently by each person, and depending on the web of relations through which one views farming, the agriculture represented in a game takes on a form wholly different in meaning and in structure alike.

Even so, if there is a commonality cutting across these types, it is perhaps that the harshness of real farming is itself excluded or softened. As was pointed out in an earlier GG piece as well, in the representations of digital games conceived as play, the toil of farming is not something one bothers to draw. The debt that inevitably trails real farming, the catastrophic losses from a price collapse, the grueling labor and the natural disasters—these tend to be drawn at a level that is recoverable. The pastoral type covers over the difficulty of agriculture with the warmth of community; the survival type draws it as a strategically manageable crisis; the time-mechanism type resolves it into a predictable timer.

This is, of course, not a claim that the game as a medium must capture every facet of agriculture. The agriculture and countryside drawn by a digital game—which produces meaning through rules and repetition—are bound to have limits to begin with, and that in itself cannot be held against it. The problem, rather, lies in the media-theoretical question of what it can mean to see, within a represented medium, only a system of agriculture that is sometimes romanticized and sometimes industrialized, inside a modern popular culture centered on city dwellers who are ever further removed from real farming. As the various objections to Little Forest pointed out, are we not passing excessively easy judgments on the very concept of agriculture and the countryside—which we have not actually experienced—on the strength of nothing but a medium's represented results?

What ought to be weighed about agriculture in games may not be "how accurate it is." More important is what is chosen again and again and what is left out again and again, and which way the pattern of those choices drags our manner of imagining agriculture. To say this is not to deny the fun or the value of the farming game. On the contrary: a player who knows that the farming in a game is a single representation, carefully chosen and arranged by someone, can enjoy the pleasure of that experience while at the same time gauging where it meets real farming and where it parts from it. That odd curiosity that crashed the rural development agency's servers—was it not, after all, a fine occasion to remind city dwellers who do not know what farming is, once more, of just what "agriculture" might be?