In the charming digital utopia of Animal Crossing: New Horizons, players are granted the identity of "Island Representative," bestowing upon them near-absolute power: from planning every bridge and incline to deciding which villager can stay. This seemingly innocent setup is, in fact, a mirror reflecting the dynamics of "power concentration" and "autonomy" in real-world politics.

Urban planning in reality has long grappled with the debate between top-down and bottom-up approaches. Top-down planning is efficient but can lead to "vanity projects" that ignore genuine community needs. Conversely, participatory, bottom-up planning is more democratic but often lengthy and fraught with compromise. In Animal Crossing, the player's singular authority is the ultimate embodiment of the top-down model. While we enjoy the freedom to shape the world according to our will, does this also represent a form of "benevolent dictatorship" for the digital age? The animal neighbors have no voting rights; their fate hinges on the player's personal preferences, raising profound questions about the boundaries of power and the rights of community members.

Thus, the game becomes a safe political laboratory. It allows us to experience firsthand the efficiency and ethical dilemmas of concentrated power while we enjoy the fun of creation. It prompts us to reflect: should an ideal community be designed by a benevolent "autocrat," or should it be co-created through the tedious yet equal deliberation of all its members? Animal Crossing's answer might be the former, but the questions it raises strike at the heart of real-world social governance.