Why Pragmata Stands Out: A Refreshing Break from 'Sad Dad' Video Games

Spoiler warning: This article contains plot details of Pragmata.

Have you ever played a game where you’re a gruff, middle-aged protagonist—bearded or stubbled—with a violent past you regret? You’ve met a child, perhaps your own or someone else’s, during a crisis and feel compelled to protect them. But deep down, you’re terrified: What if I’m still the violent person I used to be? What if I ruin this kid’s life, get them killed, or turn them into a killer?

If this sounds familiar, you’ve likely encountered a ‘sad dad’ game—a subgenre that flourished in the 2010s. Titles like The Last of Us (Joel), God of War (Kratos), and The Walking Dead (Lee) defined this cliché, with far more examples following. As game designers—still predominantly men—became fathers in real life, their personal growth seeped into their work, producing games that tried (and often failed) to balance emotional depth with violence. The result? Overly earnest narratives layered onto familiar power fantasies, where protagonists would occasionally glance back at the player to insist, ‘I really hate this violence.’

Pragmata breaks this mold. While it shares surface-level traits—such as a central relationship between a grown man and a child-like robot—it rejects the ‘sad dad’ formula entirely. Hugh Williams, the space-faring bearded protagonist, is neither sad nor a father figure. He isn’t protecting his charge out of guilt or obligation. He isn’t haunted by a violent past or ashamed of his actions. In fact, he doesn’t even decry the violence he commits—perhaps because his targets are 3D-printed, endlessly recyclable robots, not humans.

What we learn of Hugh’s life is refreshingly ordinary. He grew up, attended college, secured a job on the moon, and then witnessed (but did not cause) bad events unfolding around him. The most compelling aspect of his character? He was adopted—a fact he openly discusses with Diana, the child-shaped robot he partners with. His guidance to her isn’t laced with trauma or regret; instead, it’s practical advice on how to be a decent person.