I've been known to be pretty cynical about the commercial aspect of GT, completely aside from its merits as an interactive fantasy, and when I see things like GT Academy and Vision GT, I think of GT as morphing into something of a brand, a projected image implying fulfilment of expectations on which to secure profit.
So when Kaz started talking about the GT "Movement", I thought "yeah, I know". But then he said it's more about how the attitudes of his team are reflected in the players their games have touched; it's an inadvertent by-product of their work, the School of Polyphony. (I thought it was poignant that they realised from day one that they wouldn't get such developmental purity as they did with the first game again, and that that team ownership and transfer of ideals would be coloured by future expectation).
And then I realised that my working practices, my outlook on life and my expectations of the world and everything in it, including myself, were indeed at least in part shaped by the attention to detail and experiential purity (in terms of design focus) of games like Gran Turismo. Or maybe it's not so much that it "shaped" me, as such, more that it gave me a place and basis to solidify (along with all the other influences) my pre-existing disposition, which to be honest wasn't favourably received in my immediate environment at the time. It didn't have to be GT, or any of my other influences, that provided that space, but they're what I got.
Tan San's description of their approach to the physics engine best defines it, along with the modern origami metaphor. You don't start with a result and reverse engineer it step by step, rather you understand the individual shapes and functions that form the fundaments that reproduce some coherent whole, and tweak every component as it comes together at the same time. That's where the sculptor comes in, because it's the distillation of the experience into what the fundamental aim is: to give the impression of being one with a driving machine, at the second-by-second level. Then the board shaper uses his tools and expertise, plus technology and constant (re)learning, to deliver the tangible effects that fulfil that impression, whilst balancing the flawed expression of the non-human processes against the human experience they're intended to provide.
For me, that totally is the essence of engineering and design, and with it, ingenuity in general. This isn't a celebration of Gran Turismo or Kaz alone, rather a continuation of the celebration of human creativity, beyond simply existing. (And also a nice bit of advertising for all involved, let's not forget - but it's still a nice, positively provocative thing).
