Let's face it: games don't adhere well to natural laws. Whether for gameplay reason, or control issues, or lack of technology, or just plain laziness, video games have a tendecy to just toss science out the window. But we like them anyways! Here are the Top Ten scientific principles that most games outright ignore (and remember, this is all in good fun):

9.8 m/sec^2. We're starting off easy. A falling object's velocity should increase by 9.8 m/s per second of freefall. This means the rate of descent should increase as you plummet... yet most games (especially platformers) make it so your rate of descent is constant. It's silly, but they do it anyways and we usually don't think about it too much.

Many metals and other substances conduct, or carry along, electricity. So why is it that firing a lightning bolt on a metal platform doesn't zap anyone touching it? Lightning magic hurt armored knights more, or at least encourage them to drop their metallic and now-painful weapons. And using electrical spells or weapons while underwater should hurt you. As such, most weapons and spells ignore the types of substances they strike.

Density: the ratio of the mass of an object to its volume. A property that has a lot to do with buoyancy. I've decided that most games must give objects one of two densites: less than water (it floats) or more than water (it sinks). All objects that float seem to weigh the same, and all objects that sink seem to weigh the same. And of course, the heavier they are, the harder they fall--yet large, heavy objects still seem to flop around a bit when they land. Halo3's scarab tank (especially the legs) flops around quite a bit after it explodes; should be more of a thundering crunch! and that's it.

Viscosity: the resistance of a liquid to flow. Cohesion: the attraction between molecules in a liquid. Adhesion: the attraction of a liquid to a surface Three properties that basically add up to one thing: liquids don't fall off instantly when you get out of them. Yet in video games, characters get out of the water and are instantly dry. If you fall into a vat of acid, in reality you should continue to be hurt by it until you wash it off. Even small amounts, residues even, can hurt you. Yet in games once you're out of the vat, you stop taking damage and every thing is fine.

"Wow, that's a long drop. Good thing there's a pool of water down there!" Yes, falling into water is preferable to falling onto concrete, but at extreme heights the surface tension (which makes the surface behave more like a sheet than a liquid) means there isn't much difference between the two. Ever done a belly-flop into a swimming pool? It's like that. Surface tension can easily break bones, knock you out, or kill you. Yet almost every game (I say "almost every" but I still can't think of a single one that takes this into account) allows you to fall into water, from any height, without taking any damage--even if they do punish you for falling hard onto solid ground.

The branch of science concerned with the interrelationship of organisms and their environments. So why does every tiny rat feel the need to attack you? Why do wolves, who are pack hunters, attack singly? Why is a herbavore trying to kill me? Why are goblins and kobolds, being the universal meatshields, not extinct by now? These are all questions that show that game developers don't know--or don't care--much about ecology. As such, creatures in games just don't act realistically.

Best described as the point where mass of the object is balanced. A flask has its center of gravity nearer the base, where there is more mass. For a sword it should be situated nearer the hilt, and for an axe nearer the head. However, the center of gravity for most objects in games is just in the center of their 3D model--that is, for a sword it is exactly halfway between the tip of the blade and the pommel. This leads to some interesting balancing acts.

The force resisting the relative motion of two surfaces in contact with one another. Games just don't do friction. It's as if every hill is greased prior to play, because when I knock someone down, they hit the ground and slide. And slide. And slide. No, in reality the friction should resist that sliding, and instead the body should roll down the hill a little, and then actually stop. How many times have I killed someone in Oblivion just to have their corpse and gear go bobsledding?

Inertia: the resistance of an object to changes in its momentum. Momentum: the product of the mass of an object and its velocity (speed and direction). Apparently, the unwritten rule to inertia in gaming is: it applies always to vehicles and never to people. In a nutshell, interia means that when you put pedal to the metal, it takes a while to get to full speed. This is largely true for vehicles in games, however, it never seems to apply to people. Your character can always go from a standstill to a sprint instantly. Occasionally, games will make it so that when you stop running your character takes a few steps to slow down, but this never applies to the beginning of the run. Also, apparently you can do a running jump and, when you land, land perfectly still. Silliness. A related note is this: changing your momentum in the air. On land, we change direction by exerting an opposite force on the ground. If you are falling through the air, what exactly is your character doing to change the direction they fall? And while we're talking about momentum, why is it that when Gordon Freeman jumps onto a floating plank of wood (which miraculously still supports his weight, the weight of the HEV suit, and 100 pounds of artillary) it stays put as he walks across it and jumps off the end? The wood plank should slide backwards as he walks across, because momentum must be conserved.

Convection: the indirect tranfer of heat through a fluid medium. Radiation: transfer of heat through waves or particles. This is the one that bugs me the most. In most games, standing right next to a pool of lava is perfectly safe; it's only when you stick your foot in that it actually hurts you. Are you kidding me? Hot things give off heat to their surroundings, both by heating up the air around them and by radiation (heat released as electromagnetic radiation--light). Extremely hot things give off extreme amounts of heat to the surroundings. Hint: YOU are part of the surroundings. Temperatures of magma melts run from 700 C to 1300 C--this means the air nearby is ALSO near 700 to 1300 C. (and, of course, water boils at 100 C). Yes, that should hurt. A lot. And because of the radiation, if you can even SEE the magma, you should feel the heat.

Yes, I'm being a stickler, but I warned you about that at the beginning. Or if I didn't, I should have, or it should have been obvious anyways. But the fact remains that games have a horrendous record of ignoring many important scientific principles. Maybe that's why we like them.

List by Jormungandr83