All play and no work makes a fun job

Bored employees come out fighting: Hester Lacey on the invasion of the workplace computer game

WHILE the rest of the office is buckling down to a spot of statistical analysis, Michael, in his quiet corner by the window, is discreetly founding a city on the banks of the Nile. Expansion is vital as minor tribes over the borders are starting to look aggressive. In the real world, Michael works as a civil servant ("just say I'm in local government, I don't want to get into trouble"). As a sideline - his computer screen partially obscured from prying eyes by a strategically-placed cactus - he is a benevolent dictator, leading his people from the Dark Ages of 4000BC, playing a computer game called Civilisation.

Bored employees are easily tempted to use the personal computers in the office to load software for games such as Doom (players yomp through Hell, zapping demons and devils on the way), Dark Forces (live out your Star Wars fantasies as Han or Luke or Leia), and Tetris (players work against time to slot falling shapes together into a pattern), according to Michael.

"My computer at home isn't half as good as the one I have in the office, so I take in my new games and load them up at work," he explains. "I think it's probably against the rules, but I don't see why. I don't normally play during office hours unless it's my break, I'm more likely to stay late and spend a couple of hours in the evening playing when everyone else has gone."

Most employers are unenthusiastic about the workforce neglecting the daily grind to build their own, more appealing, computer world, or dropping the accounts program to save the earth from intergalactic killer robots. As well as soaking up working hours, installing a game introduces new software into the system and is one of the easiest ways to bring in a computer virus. And copying games software around the office is illegal.

Camden Council recently announced a two-week amnesty for staff who play computer games at work; all unauthorised software was to be admitted by Wednesday of last week. Anyone caught subsequently can expect disciplinary measures. Other organisations are equally strict: "Our pcs are there for work!" said a spokeswoman for the Bank of England.

At the DTI: "It's a disciplinary offence, for security reasons and because of the dangers of introducing viruses."

"It's specifically not allowed," said a stern BT spokeswoman. "It's a disciplinary offence to bring in any software from outside because of viruses and suchlike." Offenders, however, persist. "We had an outbreak of Lemmings," said one BT staff member from the north of England. (The idea of this one is to rescue suicidal rodents by helping them build bridges and dig holes to safety.) "The whole office was playing for two or three weeks; one had to, there were real social pressures to swap access codes. People would even stay late trying to get up to the next level. Sad, sad, sad. We've given it up now."

Jack, a property agent, has a different kind of illegal software loaded onto his work computer. "You put in the diskette, type `Mandy' and away you go. It's a girl playing with a vibrator. The graphics aren't great but you can get the general gist. It doesn't seem to be frowned on - I'm surprised really, as you don't pay people to sit around. Games shouldn't be in the workplace - people should find more to do. I'm glad I'm not paying our wages. But there's a difference between secretaries playing on-screen Solitaire all day and a partner getting out a porno disc for a bit of a laugh, though that sounds rather like double standards."

The problem is by no means new. "Five years ago I was temping in the prices room at the Financial Times," recalls a journalist. "All these guys were earning a lot of money, and they'd do their little bit of work, roll up their sleeves, and get down to this golf game with all the sound effects. I'd been there about two weeks and suddenly everyone was frantically clustering round this computer screen - I thought `Oh God, something's happened!' And it had. Someone had hit a massive drive down the fairway. My dad's a lawyer and he's just got some games installed on his work computer. He thinks they're great," he added.

Employers need not panic, however. According to Chris- tina Erskine, editor of PC Review magazine (who smugly points out that it's part of her job to play as many games in the office as she can), distractions like phones and meetings mean that the office is not the perfect sphere for those who take their games seriously. "The real A-list games are very cerebral, they take time to get into and you have to keep your mind on them. They are designed to be played over weeks, and there just isn't time for them in a lunch break.

"I tend to clear my diary, or reserve a clear run from five o'clock through until about eight when I know I won't be interrupted," she says.

Apocryphal office games stories abound. Was there really a government bureau somewhere that cocked up its unemployment figures because the entire office was playing Doom? Or a City-wide computer crash because so many users of interlinked pcs were absorbed in the adventures of Leisuresuit Larry, a nerd who always fails to pull women?

Michael wouldn't be surprised. "Quite a few people in the office have got little games tucked away on their hard discs. I think everyone likes the idea that they're spending time in the office having fun - you have to be in there eight hours a day, seven days a week, and you ought to get some enjoyment out of it somewhere along the line."

But Michael and other transgressors had better beware. Canny employers who want to crack down have a new weapon. Analytic Concepts, a Californian software company, has developed a program called GameCop which can be sneakily installed on every computer in the office. When it detects a game in progress, it produces an on-screen "Get back to work!" message from the boss. There is also an optional siren, designed to cause "embarrassment and humiliation" in front colleagues. Michael is horrified. "I might have to get my own machine," he spluttered, aghast.