Neo Cab Knows Choices in Games—and in Capitalism—are Often Illusions

It’s because Neo Cab understands that this is capitalism for the poor. I’ve never been a driver, but my dad has, and my mother is a supermarket cashier. I know from them that it’s not just the grueling physical labor of driving many miles or standing in one place for nine hours to serve customers that makes life difficult. It’s also the emotional labor; it’s having to sell a likable version of yourself for a better rating because your merits as a skilled worker matter little in a world in which meritocracy is largely a myth. It’s about having to keep a smile plastered on your face even when customers take out their bad days on you unless you want to get fired because the customer is always right (they aren’t). It’s about having choices, but not really, because how true is your free will if your choices are driven by your need to barely survive and not by your individual desires? To live life as you want by making the choices you most desire is largely for the privileged.

In a regular setting, I’d have no problem telling a well-off 14-year old white girl that she doesn’t need to explain racism or poverty to me as Lina. But as she sits in the back of my cab, ranting about how her mother is a fascist, I find myself struggling to choose whether to be blunt or just let it go for the sake of my rating. I struggle to find the best way to respond to an anti-car and anti-Capra activist criticizing me for driving to make a living, diluting the nuances behind that choice in the process. The characters—both likable and not—are so superbly written that each one is distinct and feels like a real person, making choices often difficult.

Perhaps there’s so much care behind the writing of these characters because Neo Cab also understands that, in a world that defines people’s worth through their capital and contributions to the preservation of capitalist systems, a key part to the survival of the underprivileged is the human connections we make. Neo Cab let me have some of the most captivating conversations I’ve had in videogames—conversations that delve into philosophy, toxic friendships, justice, beauty standards, and even quantum physics. We keep going because we meet people like Oona, the fascinating statistician who can sense when your choices cause you to jump from one branching timeline to the next; Fiona, a sweet and encouraging woman whose insecurities cause her to depend on technology to navigate her new relationship; and Carlos, a young man whose moral compass drives him to be an illegal doctor who tirelessly serves patients without insurance.

This is where Neo Cab’s excellent writing shines brightest. Even though the conversations are only as long as a cab ride, Los Ojos and its people quickly feel real. It fails to shine as brightly with its central mystery, for it’s relatively uninteresting, feels redundant and has a dissatisfying resolution. But it’s absolutely worth playing in spite of this. It’s not a long ride, but it’s a unique one that made me feel seen and even healed. Its several systems gracefully combine to create a cog that you want to keep turning until you reach the end. Ultimately, most of us are just cogs in a larger machine operated by those at the top. Neo Cab chooses to see the importance of the little cogs, and that’s why it’ll stick with me.

Natalie Flores is a freelance writer who loves to talk about games, K-pop and too many other things.