There’s something profoundly human about watching a grown man in a stained onesie repeatedly faceplant into the dirt. In Bennett Foddy’s latest creation, ‘Baby Steps,’ this isn’t just slapstick comedy—it’s a meditation on our relationship with failure and the stubborn persistence that defines so much of human endeavor. The game takes the simple act of walking, something most of us mastered decades ago, and turns it into a physics-based puzzle that would make even the most coordinated among us question our basic motor skills. Each step requires deliberate thought, each stumble a lesson in humility, and each successful traversal a small victory against the tyranny of gravity.
What makes ‘Baby Steps’ particularly fascinating is how it weaponizes hiking culture against itself. Here we have Nate, our protagonist—a 35-year-old ‘failson’ who embodies a certain type of modern masculinity that’s simultaneously privileged and pathetic. He’s the kind of guy who would rather struggle endlessly than accept help, who sees self-sufficiency as a virtue even when it’s clearly a liability. The game’s creator explicitly designed this as commentary on ‘symbolic masculine self-sufficiency and the limitations of that,’ creating a character who can’t even accept basic assistance like proper shoes or directions. In an age where men’s mental health is finally getting the attention it deserves, Nate serves as a walking (or rather, stumbling) cautionary tale about the dangers of pride.
The game’s difficulty isn’t just about challenging players—it’s about creating a specific emotional experience. When you spend twenty minutes trying to navigate a simple slope, only to slide back down repeatedly, you’re not just playing a game; you’re experiencing the frustration of genuine struggle. The physics system ensures that no two falls are exactly alike, turning failure into a creative exercise rather than a repetitive punishment. This approach transforms what could be a tedious experience into something strangely compelling, making you question why you’re putting yourself through this digital torment while simultaneously feeling compelled to try ‘just one more time.’
Beyond the physical comedy and challenging gameplay lies a surprisingly touching narrative arc. The other hikers you encounter—competent, comfortable, and often condescending—serve as mirrors reflecting Nate’s inadequacies back at him. Their manic, surreal interactions create a world that feels both familiar and alien, like hiking through a dream where everyone else knows the rules except you. These encounters aren’t just comic relief; they’re subtle commentary on social dynamics, competence hierarchies, and the strange ways we measure ourselves against others. The game suggests that sometimes the most meaningful journeys aren’t about reaching the destination, but about the person you become along the way.
Ultimately, ‘Baby Steps’ asks us to consider why we subject ourselves to difficult experiences, both in games and in life. There’s no tangible reward for exploring off the beaten path, no achievement for climbing that pointless tower—just the satisfaction of having done it. In a world increasingly driven by optimization and efficiency, the game champions the value of pointless struggle and unnecessary difficulty. It reminds us that sometimes the most meaningful growth comes not from success, but from the process of failing, learning, and trying again. In making us literally take baby steps, the game teaches us something profound about the nature of progress, persistence, and the quiet dignity of getting back up after you fall.
About the Author
