Dave the Diver and Split Fiction Are the Same Game!

Something clicked after I finished Split Fiction the other day. It reminded me of Dave the Diver, a game I’d previously loved. At first glance, these two seem completely unrelated—one is a quirky underwater fishing + restaurant sim, the other an interactive, choice-based narrative experience. But they actually share the same design philosophy, pointing toward a major shift in how modern games are made.

Both games are chaotic, genre-bending experiences that bounce between radically different activities. Yet, somehow, they manage to feel cohesive. That’s not a coincidence. It’s a reflection of how the attention economy is reshaping game design.

The Rise of Multi-Hyphenate Gaming

In Dave the Diver, your day might start with deep-sea diving, followed by menu planning, evening service as a waiter, late-night bar conversations, and occasional battles with kaiju. It’s like wandering through the dreamscape of an ADHD-fueled imagination—every five minutes offers something different.

Split Fiction works similarly. One moment you’re in a sci-fi space opera, the next you’re in a medieval fantasy. The story rapidly shifts genres, giving you different characters to control and different mechanics to engage with.

This isn't limited to just these two. Think Persona’s life-sim + dungeon crawling, Yakuza’s crime drama + absurd minigames, Hades’ roguelike + narrative fusion. So why this trend toward what seems like design schizophrenia?

Doomscrolling Brains and Cognitive Switching

The answer lies in how digital natives consume media. Think about doomscrolling: a TikTok, a tweet, a story, a short, all with different tones and cognitive demands, consumed back-to-back with zero friction.

That rapid switching has become part of how we regulate dopamine. Mono-tasking feels boring—the brain is addicted to novelty. Even fun activities start to feel monotonous after a while.

Game designers have picked up on this. Instead of relying on a single core loop, they’re creating multiple gameplay loops. Instead of sticking to one genre, they’re blending several. Not just for variety—but to mirror modern attention patterns.

Flow State vs. Micro-Flow States

Traditional game design draws on Csikszentmihalyi’s flow theory—deep focus, optimized challenge-skill ratio, prolonged engagement. That’s still valid, but increasingly insufficient.

Modern games offer micro-flow states. You’re in the zone while diving in Dave, again while running the restaurant, again during a cutscene. Each segment is brief but intense.

It’s similar to TikTok: short bursts of focused engagement that somehow add up to hours of play. These games offer mini-experiences that collectively form a cohesive whole.

Genre Fluidity and Postmodern Game Design

Split Fiction is particularly interesting—it uses genre as a narrative device. Characters behave differently in sci-fi vs. fantasy settings. Genre isn’t just an aesthetic—it’s a behavioral framework.

This is postmodern game design. Genres are no longer rigid categories; they’re tools to be bent and remixed. Designers manipulate genre conventions not just for mechanical variation, but for narrative and even philosophical depth.

Dave the Diver starts like a casual fishing sim, veers into environmental commentary, then explores ancient mysteries, and ends with kaiju battles. Each pivot unlocks a new thematic layer.

Attention Residue and Transition Design

But multi-activity design has risks. Constant switching creates attention residue—leftover mental processing from the previous task that hurts performance in the next.

The best multi-hyphenate games manage transitions well. In Dave, diving and restaurant gameplay are smoothly connected—fish you catch become menu items, customer preferences shape your dive strategy.

Split Fiction also transitions seamlessly—genre shifts are aligned with story beats, making them feel organic, not jarring.

The Social Media Paradox: Fragmented Yet Cohesive

Here’s the paradox: even though social media consumption is fragmented, users still maintain a coherent identity. One person consumes political tweets, cat videos, cooking reels, and philosophy memes—and it all feels part of “them.”

Games are replicating this. They offer fragmented gameplay, but tie it together with overarching narratives or progression systems. Dave’s character arc or Split Fiction’s evolving relationships serve as binding threads.

Micro-Dopamine Architecture

Each activity switch gives a tiny dopamine hit: completing a task, unlocking content, mastering new mechanics. These micro-rewards sustain engagement over time.

There’s a danger of overstimulation, addiction, shallow interaction—but when done right, it’s powerful. The key is balancing superficial variety with meaningful progression.

The Future of Hybrid Design

Where is this trend going? I believe genres will become less important as reference points. Instead, mechanics and aesthetics will become fluid. AI generation tools are making content variety easier to produce, enabling more experimental hybrids.

In VR/AR spaces, this model will thrive. Switching roles, environments, and contexts will become intuitive in spatial interaction design.

Unexpected Synthesis: Gaming as Digital Flâneur

Consider Walter Benjamin’s flâneur—a figure who aimlessly wanders the modern city, observing and absorbing. Doomscrolling is digital flâneurism: random content, spontaneous connections.

Dave the Diver and Split Fiction make the player a digital flâneur. Each activity is a new street corner. Structured but exploratory. Intentional but spontaneous.

This offers an alternative to goal-based gaming. Less about achievement hunting, more about experience sampling. Less about efficiency, more about diversity. Less about completion, more about exploration.

The Big Question: Is This Sustainable?

Are fragmented attention patterns harming long-term cognitive development? Is surface-level engagement displacing deep focus? Time will tell.

But one thing is clear: game designers are already adapting. And honestly, it feels like a natural evolution.

After all, life is multi-hyphenate too. Work, relationships, hobbies, responsibilities... constantly switching. Maybe games are simply reflecting reality more accurately now.