At nine years old when it was first released, Alpha Centauri was my introduction to philosophy (obviously I was still in the process of actually learning English then, but I was precocious when it came to the English language and could still understand quite a bit). I liked it when I was nine; I loved it when I was fourteen. Certainly it is a deep strategy game on its own right, but what contributes to its longevity today is the way it explores possible future paths of human technology and society on an alien planet. The factions are separated by ideology. Every technology and wonder is accompanied by a quote or text, often by philosophers and theorists, informing the motivation of that development (Civilization IV copied this, but with far less weight). The planet is not just a game board, but also a sentient, active participant in the form of commentary, environmental damage and response, climate change, and the game's version of "barbarians."; one of the victory conditions involves interfacing with it. All of this is presented in a somber, muted, even claustrophobic visual interface.
Dune is a great piece of science fiction that can be read as entertainment. But like all great science fiction it is also an examination of future society, the politics of which in Dune's case is dominated by the characteristics and the ecology of the planet it takes place in. Not to spoil the book, but it is permeated with that sense of exploration. It is successful in demanding active participation from its reader. Such is the case with Alpha Centauri, where, at least for the first time you play it, you discover a tech or build a wonder, then the game invites you to actually think about what it means.
