By Emi Gruender
Minecraft, at its core, is exactly what it sounds like. It’s a videogame where a player first mines natural materials in a blocky world, and subsequently crafts whatever they want: a farm, a treehouse, a massive statue of a cat, anything. A sandbox game, adventure game, multiplayer simulation of life all in one—all within the realm of 8-bit inspired block graphics. Though its countless iterations have transformed the game into quite a complicated operation, many remember the simple afternoons of their childhood curled up under a blanket, listening to “Wet Hands’” comforting chimes.
Published in 2009 (alpha version), Minecraft was originally programmed by Markus “Notch” Persson using Java. Featuring only the most basic features of today’s Minecraft, players explored small, rudimentary worlds composed solely of grass, stone, wood, and cobblestone. There was no crafting option, no inventory, no health, etc. Slowly but surely, features like crafting, fighting, and fishing trickled into the code with every new update. At just eight years old, I discovered Minecraft on my parents’ teal-blue iPad. I distinctly remember my first house being a pure diamond rectangle, with a full glass ceiling. I had a “tightrope,” which was just a metal fence connecting my roof to the nearest tree, and I tucked my bright red bed into a corner. Too scared to turn on Survival Mode and face the skeletons and zombies lurking outside, I watched as the blocky sun rose every simulated morning, enjoying the powers of flight and conjuration at my fingertips. Or rather, since Minecraft characters had no fingers— at the tips of my stumpy block-hands.
Join me as we reminisce on what Minecraft was—and compare that rose-colored memory to the Minecraft of today.
A popular controversy during the Caves and Cliffs update, the textures for the ores used to be uniform, save for a change of color. Today, each ore has a distinct shape and color, making it easier for miners to differentiate ore underground. However, many—including myself—still miss the old texture packs, and the nostalgia that came with it.
The terrain generation has changed substantially as well. Instead of the relatively flat, mono-biome worlds of 2016, snowcapped mountains covered in a thick canopy of more diverse and complicated trees peek out from the distance.
Do you remember the age when there were no polar bears, glowfish, axolotls, allays, ravagers, hoglins, piglins, pandas, turtles, foxes, frogs, dolphins, bees, phantoms, or fish?
Do you remember when the undersea was completely barren, devoid of vegetation, coral, and marine life of any kind? Do you remember when the Nether was just a huge expanse of nertherite, fire, and nothing more? When there was no netherite, no strange teal forests with their squishy trees and glowing fruit, no bastions, home to virtually no mobs but skeletons? Do you remember a time before the lush graves, the massive amethyst geodes? Sure, some may call that basic terrain “lifeless,” but in a world so chock-full of new, interesting things to explore, it’s hard to imagine a world without them.
Do you remember when every villager wore that same muted smock, their texture uniform regardless of the location of their village or their “profession?” Do you remember when villagers didn’t have professions at all? Do you remember when every bed was the same bright red shade, since there were no other colors available? Do you remember when there were only two types of doors, two types of wood, two types of trapdoors (oak and steel)?
Even doing the research comparing old Minecraft to new Minecraft, I felt the snap of nostalgia whack me across the face. Suddenly, I was eight years old again, spending my daily allotted 15 minutes of screentime hidden under a blanket, wrestling with my iPad’s bright teal ergonomic case on Minecraft Bedrock. I was ten again, playing Minecraft on my Kindle Fire with my brother at gymnastics competitions, trying our best to figure out multiplayer. I was thirteen, playing Minecraft 1.9 Hypixel with my online friends to wheedle away our sudden overabundance of time, thanks to COVID.
Perhaps someday, when (if) I’m off at college, with a couple more idle afternoons to spare, I’ll be able to boot up Minecraft and share a simulated world again with the friends I made here. And together, maybe, in this new world, we’ll be able to reminisce on our memories of Minecraft, in addition to our own.