As a professor of sociology at the University of Maine at Augusta, I often talk with students about socialization, the process by which we take on identities in life.

Part of the socialization process is passive. Through social interaction and consumption of media we are sent strong messages about limits on behavior that differ for people with different identities.

However, socialization also has an active aspect: we choose to accept or reject the limits that are presented to us, knowing that we may be rewarded or punished as a result. Occasionally, we may band together to challenge and even change the limits of socialization.

I enjoy teaching the Sociology of Gender course at UMA, and a fair portion of that course is dedicated to discovering the ways in which masculinity and femininity shape socialization. This semester, my work has followed me home, where I’m not “Professor Cook,” but “Dad” to a daughter in middle school. When my daughter asked for permission to play a video game called The Sims 4, I decided to take a look.

The Sims is popular among my daughter’s peers, and that’s no surprise: the goal of the game is to impersonate a young adult in various social situations. By playing this game, young people practice “anticipatory socialization.” The Sims lets players develop characters, with many choices to make.

Watch and consider this video record of the process: what choices are unavailable, to whom?

Most noticeably, only two named categories are presented: “male” and “female.” More than a million people in the United States are intersexed, but this category is off-limits. Also off-limits are the many, increasingly popular transgender identities.

The design of the game forces a player to abide by these limits.

Both “male” and “female” Sims may be assigned a “perky” or “snooty” walk, but a hip-swinging walk is labeled “feminine,” while loud fist-pumping behavior earns the label “bro.” “Male” characters choose between voices that are “clear,” “warm,” or “brash,” while “female” characters choose a “sweet,” “melodic,” or “lilted” voice. “Males” place their feet apart and gaze at the player; “females” draw inward and adopt a sidelong glance. “Females” show a “romantic” trait by pulling backward, bending, and turning; “males” show they’re “romantic” by placing legs apart, stepping forward.

Finally, “females” have more clothing choices than “males,” but they show a lot more skin.

“It’s only a game,” you may be thinking. But consider that the concerns identified by The Sims 4 are matched offline.

My daughter’s public school dress code is separate for boys and girls, and limits on girls’ clothing use 40 percent more words than limits on boys’ clothing.

A nearby private school’s dress code mirrors The Sims’ focus on the “distraction” of girls’ exposed skin, using feminized words in prohibition: “skirt,” “midriff,” “tank tops,” “spaghetti straps,” “halter,” “dresses,” “yoga,” “spandex,” “blouse.”

These are the limits that continue to socialize our children. The question is, will we passively accept them, or actively challenge them?

James Cook has been a professor of social science at the University of Maine at Augusta since 2011. Dr. Cook’s primary areas of interest in research and teaching are political organizations, social networks, and social media, specifically applying social network theory to social media in the Maine State Legislature.

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