I’ll never forget the first time I popped a couple of AAA batteries into a gray plastic block and inserted it into my Nintendo 64 controller. I plugged it into the console, fired up Star Fox 64 and felt something during a video game for the first time.

Don’t get me wrong: I’d run the gamut of emotion while I played games before. I was once so beset by the challenges in the original Donkey Kong Country that I refused to play for an entire day. I felt true triumph the day I slayed Ganon in The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past.

But this was the first time I physically interacted with a piece of software. When I skimmed the water on my way into Corneria City, the Rumble Pak on my controller quivered ever so slightly. The first explosion rocked my 10-year-old hands so much I thought I would drop the three-pronged piece of plastic. I finally felt like I was living these experiences rather than simply bearing witness to the results of myriad button presses on the screen.

In the 16 years — think about that for a second — since regular force feedback debuted, it’s been integrated into controller design and is a standard aspect of most any console game.

But it’s often taken for granted.

Just because forced feedback is a perceived standard of game design doesn’t necessarily mean it should be. Consider this: When was the last time rumble made a cutscene more engaging? Narrative full motion video (FMV) should be a passive experience. A shaking controller has often removed me from what should be an engaging cutscene.

Of course, in certain contexts forced feedback in a scripted sequence makes sense — the God of War series’ interactive cutscenes immediately come to mind — but when you’re faced with a dialogue-heavy FMV, what’s the sense in making a controller shake?

The worst offender in recent memory is the Tomb Raider reboot. There’s a particular area where the wind is blowing so fiercely it rattles the walls of the room you’re in. The way the wind is incorporated into gameplay is well executed. But I couldn’t help but turn off the rumble feature on my DualShock 3 after the third attempt at the puzzle. The constant vibrating of the controller made me feel as though it may lead to permanent nerve dysfunctions. No credible study has proven that rumbling video game controllers affect our health negatively, but try to solve a puzzle when your Wii U Gamepad is leaping out of your hands.

Instead, the conversation within studios should be whether rumble enhances the player experience. That answer should largely impact the feature’s implementation.

What if we got a game where rumble served a purely mechanical purpose? I tingle with excitement at the prospect of the folks at thatgamecompany designing an experience centered on force-feedback gameplay. There should be a new standard for the use of this mechanic in games. Let’s start that conversation — let’s rethink rumble.

Extended Play is Eder Campuzano’s weekly column on video game trends and culture. He is the Emerald’s managing editor for print.