Did Nintendo start out with ties to the yakuza? From Hanafuda and Game & Watch to the Game Boy: Decoding the innovative mindset of Gunpei Yokoi

Have you ever heard that Nintendo got its start from the mob? In my opinion, the most misleading part of this claim is conflating "making playing cards," "cards being used for gambling," and "the mob controlling the company" into the same issue. It is true that Nintendo began with Hanafuda cards, but jumping from there to the conclusion that the mob provided funding or exercised control skips a crucial step. Rather than chasing rumors, I am more interested in discussing how Nintendo turned constraints into ideas that people couldn't resist playing with.

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Did Nintendo start with the mob? I would first ask three questions

First, did they make playing cards? Second, did gamblers use their cards? Third, did the mob provide funding, hold shares, or exercise control? These might sound similar, but I believe these three questions must be answered separately.

Making Hanafuda cards does not equal being run by the mob

The first question is the clearest. Nintendo's official company history states that Fusajiro Yamauchi began manufacturing Hanafuda cards in Shimogyo-ku, Kyoto, in 1889; in 1902, they began manufacturing playing cards. So, Nintendo did not start out as a video game company; they started as a playing card company.

Playing cards can be for entertainment, or they can be used for gambling. However, I won't draw a direct conclusion about a manufacturer's identity based on how a product is used. A shop on the street selling Mahjong tiles doesn't necessarily mean they run a gambling den.

People using cards for gambling and someone controlling a company are two different things

Regarding the second question, the historical narrative about gamblers using their cards and the business generated by replacing worn-out decks is worth noting. But even if such a business relationship existed, it does not automatically answer the third question: Who provided the funding? Who held the shares? Who controlled the operations?

To me, this is where the most important line is drawn. To claim that "the mob controlled Nintendo," one needs verifiable evidence of funding, shareholding, or operational control—simply saying "they made gambling cards back in the day" is not enough. Without sufficient supporting evidence, I will not treat this rumor as part of the company's history.

So my answer is: Nintendo started with Hanafuda, but "making playing cards" cannot be directly extrapolated to "getting their start from the mob."

What really fascinates me is how they made non-gamers want to play

In 1959, Nintendo released playing cards featuring Disney characters. This is recorded in their official history. Cards were still cards, but when familiar characters appeared on their surface, it provided a new entry point that made people want to engage with them.

I think this shift is worth pondering: if a product originally only appeals to a certain group, must one completely overhaul the technology to find new players? Not necessarily. Sometimes, simply changing the mode of presentation or the perspective from which the product is understood can open another door.

This is also the narrative thread that interests me most when looking at Nintendo's history: They don't just ask "what can I make," but rather "how can I make more people want to play."

Game & Watch: If you couldn't draw the screen yourself, how would you design a game?

In 1980, Nintendo launched the Game & Watch. What I want you to note is not how different it is from today's consoles, but the problem designers faced at the time: the screen wasn't a pixel-based world that you could draw freely; it relied on pre-defined LCD shapes that would light up or turn off to create movement.

Fixed shapes and a limited number of pixels represent two different types of constraints. Pixels can be rearranged into different patterns; with pre-defined shapes, you have to organize the gameplay between existing poses and positions. You can't just draw a new move on a whim.

Keep "44" in mind, but treat it as a design challenge

I want to use the "44 fixed shapes" as a thought experiment for you: assuming you could only arrange characters, items, and actions within those specific shapes, how would you create a game that makes someone want to play it again? The "44" here isn't 44 pixels, nor does it represent a uniform spec for every Game & Watch.

You might start by complaining that there are too few screen elements or too few movements. But from another angle, you could ask: what actions are the easiest to understand? What rules don't need much explanation? What kind of challenge—relying purely on rhythm and timing—is enough to get someone hooked?

The juggling gameplay of "Ball" is a very intuitive example: control the juggler, catch the balls, and don't let them drop. No complex worldview, no long tutorials, but you know exactly what to do the moment you look at it.

I think this is the brilliant part. A limited screen does not necessarily mean limited gameplay; you can still create an engaging experience using rules, rhythm, and feedback.

The D-pad and folding consoles: What I see is not what was lost, but what was solved

Let's look at the D-pad. When a portable device lacks space, the control scheme cannot simply mimic that of large arcade machines. Directional control needs to be clear, easy to learn, and suitable for fingers to use on a tiny body.

For me, the most interesting thing about the D-pad isn't just its cross shape; it's that it turned "which direction to move" into a very direct action. A good interface doesn't need to be praised for its design—it just needs to be used without much thought.

The same goes for the folding design. The compact-style opening and closing is an easily understood design metaphor: open to use, fold to store. Rather than asking what it looks like, I prefer to ask whether this structure makes carrying and using the device more convenient.

When the Nintendo DS was released in 2004, the dual-screen and folding design opened up another possibility for portable gaming. Early products and later machines can be compared, but I wouldn't simplify the entire design history into a straight line just because of superficial similarities. What's truly worth observing is how similar design concepts solve different problems in different eras.

Game Boy: Don't chase color; first think about where the player wants to take it

In 1989, Nintendo launched the Game Boy. Looking back today, the monochrome screen is easily dismissed as "something missing." But I don't think the design of a portable product should only be judged by what it lacks, but also by what it retains after trade-offs.

For a device you take out, what you want may not just be a prettier screen, but also ease of carry, convenience, and not having to worry about battery life constantly. These needs might not be the most flashy items on a spec sheet, but they dictate whether you'll actually want to bring it out with you.

So I won't just ask: "Why didn't they use a more powerful screen?" I would also ask: "If they had changed the screen, would the overall experience actually be better?"

Design trade-offs are not necessarily technical regression. Sometimes, it's about first figuring out what matters most to the player.

Gunpei Yokoi’s "Lateral Thinking with Withered Technology": Using mature technology to conceive new ways to play

To this point, the core message I want to convey is the concept often associated with Gunpei Yokoi: "Lateral Thinking with Withered Technology." I understand this concept as: making good use of mature technology to conceive new purposes and gameplay from a different angle. This is my interpretation, not a literal quote.

Mature technology does not mean it lacks novelty. Being familiar with its capabilities and limitations allows you to focus your efforts on another question: how can we make it easier for users to understand, more willing to use, and even willing to integrate into their daily lives?

I'm not saying new technology is unimportant. It's just that before adding a new feature, it's worth pausing to ask yourself: am I improving the experience, or am I just trying to make the spec sheet look better?

From the way playing cards were presented to the rules for limited-screen games, to the methods of operation and portability, I see the same attitude: you don't have to wait for perfect conditions to start making something interesting.

FAQ: Nintendo's Origins and Game & Watch Design

What did Nintendo do originally?

Official company history records that Fusajiro Yamauchi began manufacturing Hanafuda cards in Kyoto in 1889, started manufacturing playing cards in 1902, and only later expanded into businesses like video games.

Does making Hanafuda prove Nintendo was controlled by the mob?

No. Manufacturing cards, the use of cards for gambling, and the company's funding and control are separate issues and cannot be used as substitute evidence for one another.

When did Nintendo launch Disney playing cards?

In 1959, a date confirmed by Nintendo's official company history.

Are the fixed LCD shapes on Game & Watch pixels?

No. Fixed shapes require organizing displays and movements between pre-designed graphics, which is different from pixel-based screens that can form various patterns; the "44" in the text is a setting for a thought experiment, not a uniform specification across the entire series.

When were Game & Watch, Game Boy, and Nintendo DS launched?

According to official history, Game & Watch was launched in 1980, Game Boy in 1989, and Nintendo DS in 2004.

How should "Lateral Thinking with Withered Technology" be understood?

I understand it as making good use of mature technology to create new uses and gameplay from a fresh perspective, rather than always chasing the highest specifications first.

Constraints aren't an excuse; they're an opportunity to rethink

Nintendo's story doesn't need mob rumors to be interesting. For me, the most important takeaway isn't that they always hold the best cards, but that when conditions are limited, they are still willing to rethink: how can we make this fun?

"Having a bad hand" is a metaphor, not a literal description of Nintendo's entire history. But this metaphor reminds me that imperfect conditions aren't necessarily bad news; sometimes they force you to set aside conventional practices and find another answer.

Constraints are not an excuse; they are the prompt. Real innovation is not just about adding a few more things to your hand, but about clearly rethinking what you want to create for the player.

Further Reading: Nintendo Official Company History. Years such as 1889 for Hanafuda, 1902 for playing cards, 1959 for Disney character cards, as well as 1980 for Game & Watch, 1989 for Game Boy, and 2004 for Nintendo DS are organized according to official history. The design comparisons and insights in this article are narrative analyses and do not infer corporate control relationships based on product usage.