Should an MMO have an ending? A real, honest storytelling ending, and/or a final, complete shutdown of the servers? I touched on the idea in Replayability and Keeplayability, as well as the open source MMO article, and the more I look at it, the more I think that yes, MMOs should have an ending. This is the culmination of a handful of thoughts, and I’ve actually been writing this article since December.
(Note, this is also something that has been written over time, so it’s a bit more meandering than I’d like. I’ve ranted a bit here and there, so this would have benefited from a bit of editing, but at the same time, I wanted to get this out of my system. It may have served better as a series of articles, and I may come back to revisit some of these more tightly. For the moment, it’s mostly a brain dump, so I’m hiding a good chunk of it behind that “More” tag. I won’t be offended in the slightest if that link is underutilized.)
This pair of articles really prodded me to finish this up.
You Have More Competition Than You Think
It’s the intersection of these two, along with a handful of other thoughts, like Blizzard’s plans for another MMO, and my repeated theories for a cyclic game, that really make me think that these MMOs really should actually end. Not as a genre, certainly not, I’m just talking about any single game. Brian “Psychochild” Green has rightfully suggested moving on instead of pining for a lost love. Also, when I talk about my cyclic design, I’m talking about a game that, by design, “ends” repeatedly. What I’m talking about here can apply to that as well, and might be better summed up as “games have life spans, and even MMOs need to accept that”.
Raph Koster took a look at that in this article:
How Open Big Virtual Worlds Grow
No product will be big and profitable forever. That’s fairly obvious to anyone with a modicum of intelligence (which neatly explains why economists who believe that perpetual growth is possible in a finite world are soworthless and actively detrimental; they lack even rudimentary mathematical intelligence). What’s not so obvious is the point where something is wearing out its welcome, and while technically profitable, is well past its expiration date. Leaving something afloat when it’s obviously taking on water, seeking to bail the water out instead of patching the holes or scuttling a ship beyond repair, is just throwing good money after bad. Yes, that’s a thinly veiled swipe at the futility of Keynesian spending to fix our horrendously, fundamentally broken economy.
In addition to that, not only are there real mathematical concerns (diminishing returns, natural product cycle, the nature of finite numbers), but there are sociological concerns. People get tired. Any company that keeps producing consumer goods in a continued effort to milk their cash cow treads a fine line between actively depositing good will in their brand name equity, and making withdrawals against their reputation by abusing customers’ good will.
Ed Catmull, current president of Pixar and Disney animation and CG pioneer, gave an insightful address at my alma mater a few months ago. His is the analogy of making deposits to your brand (creating and producing good, valuable commodities) and making withdrawals against the same (cheap sequels, stretching a joke, refusing to innovate, milking the cash cow to death). He used the Disney direct to DVD sequels as an example. Yes, they sell (mostly to princess-addled children with weak-willed parents), but they just aren’t good movies. His experience is that those movies make money by directly withdrawing against the good will built up in the Disney name.
In Mr. Catmull’s immortal words: “B work is bad for your soul”. These B work movies (lesser quality, by design to cut corners and maintain profitability) are bad for consumers, because they aren’t getting top notch entertainment, and the original movies and stories lose integrity when bent to commercial serialization. (Mulan 2, anyone? Little Mermaid 3? In Ursula’s words: “Pathetic”.) They are bad for the company, because they lose credibility. (This is actually a theme that runs parallel to the separate propensity to bash Disney as one gets older, because feel-good cartoons are “cool” to denigrate as lame kiddie fare. These trends feed each other, and intensify the good will decay.) They are bad for the people working on them, because of simple psychology: If you know, going into a project, that you aren’t expected to do good work, and that you’re expected to cut corners, what impetus do you have for excelling? (This could also be extended to the crippling effects of welfare, and why the bailouts and their inherent moral hazard are so terribly corrosive.)
Now, Mr. Catmull was speaking specifically about sequels (another example is Shrekitis), but this applies neatly to any IP that overstays its welcome, whether it’s via sequels or expansions. Yes, I’m looking at World of Warcraft. Even the most die hard of fans are finding that they don’t enjoy being strung along by the minimum of effort that it takes to create new grindy treadmills. Even Blizzard key players have moved on to their next big thing. Whether or not it’s stated outright, the people left on WoW have got to be thinking that they are somehow the second string. They are the B workers, but they have to maintain a good front. Wrath does a lot of things right for the reality of the market that Blizzard has had a huge hand in creating, and they are still gaining subscribers, but ultimately, the adoption curve of WoW just cannot sustain big numbers indefinitely.
This is the force behind grind. Doing something fun once is awesome, maybe life altering. Doing it again on an alt is mundane. Doing it again to grind reputation is mindless, and more often than not, just a barely veiled way to keep a player subscribed.
Even players have an attention span cycle, and it may just be imagination, but it seems to me that the genre as a whole is really suffering from a fair bit of malaise. We’ve seen major MMO releases met with a hearty “meh”, and other existing MMOs die completely (Tabula Rasa, Hellgate).
We see this sort of natural decay everywhere. Star Trek, Michael Jordan, Brett Farve, Detroit car makers, whatever. People just don’t know when to quit, and can’t give up the glory days. We are living a finite life, and experiences therein are transient by nature. We all would love to find something eternal to hold on to, but that is the province of philosophy and religion, not game marketing.
It’s OK to move on to new titles, new ideas, new experiences. In Rafiki’s words, yes, “learn from the past”, but do not lock yourself to it in a hapless effort to perpetuate a dream.
So if you’re still on board, the obvious question is “what now for the game?” since it’s obvious that there will still be people hooked to the game. Brian “Psychochild” Green rightly pointed out some problems with the open source model, though I’d not complain if a publisher chose to go that route.
To me, the proper route would be to turn the game into a simple small scale multiplayer game, whether that means allowing private servers, LAN connections or even just IP connections. Let players continue to play with friends or just play on their own machines, but go ahead and pull the server’s plug. Yes, it’s a radical move, but at least those who purchased the game, like a Tabula Rasa, could still play the thing. Of course I’m biased, since I’d happily buy and play an offline World of Warcraft, but people did actually buy these games at one point, fully expecting to play them. They rented the server space for a while with their subscription money, and they are well and truly “invested” in the game. Pulling the plug on the live server can be traumatic, but kicking someone when they are down by effectively killing the game in any venue would not only be a PR killer, but also a waste of what might be a game worth playing and the customer’s money.
To be fair, it’s probably nontrivial to set up that sort of infrastructure, but in my mind, it’s part of the implied bargain that comes from making people pay a subscription on top of selling them a boxed version of the game.
And yes, I do think that players should move on and find other things to do, rather than play a game past its “use by” date. At the same time, I recognize that not everyone will do so, and I recognize the basic commercial right to use things that you have purchased. (Which means that I come down very opposed to the typical EULA “licensing” garbage.) If someone wants to play Tabula Rasa forever, they should have the right and ability to do so, even though I think that it’s healthy for them and the company to move on.
So what of Guild Wars? It’s halfway there, since there’s no subscription fee. You just buy the thing and play whenever you feel like it. Someday, the cost of maintaining the servers will outweigh the income generated from sales, and someday, there will be bigger and better games, so yes, even GW should pull the plug someday. At that point, again, make the game into a multiplayer game, either LAN or IP matching. The implied “subscription bargain” isn’t in effect there, so it would almost definitely be a net cost to do. That said, it’s a fine investment in the brand name, and a deposit into the PR machine that keeps people willing to stick with the company.
The “multiplayerification” of an MMO can even be monetized, if necessary. I suspect that many devoted players would be willing to pony up a one-shot fee to take their characters and virtual assets to an offline game, and to pay for the dev costs incurred in making the game possible to play beyond the server’s shutdown. It’s something that would have to be balanced against the PR cost, certainly, but it’s possible. I don’t think it’s ideal, but it’s possible.
Of course, taking games offline means opening the game up to hacks like the TQ Defiler for Titan Quest, but at that point, the game is fractured into private servers and LAN parties anyway, so people should be playing with friends, and if they aren’t, there’s no reason for complaint anyway. It’s a nonissue, in other words.
Making the game into an offline multiplayer/solo game also means that you can sell the title as a boxed game even after the online MMO servers are long since disconnected. Of course it’s past its prime, but that’s another potential way to capture part of that demand curve that the sub model completely ignores.
Now, it’s true that some of these games will not work without a critical mass of players to fuel their game design. WAR would function differently in this sort of zombie state than WoW, for example. A game like Age of Conan, however, considering the highly solo experience of the early Destiny Quest line, might just benefit from stepping out of the MMO ring and aiming at a different target audience that is more in line with its game design. Muckbeast has an article up that spawned that particular thought, over thisaway:
Age of Conan: Time to Clean up the Mess
This bit about defining your core audience and core design competency is simple business 101 stuff. It’s baffling to me that these guys get millions of shareholder money, but don’t understand the basics. (Insert mini rant about the supreme idiocy of many of the moneymakers and policymakers in big business, from banking to housing, gaming to politicking.)
I don’t expect this to be a popular article, since I’m probably slaughtering a few sacred cows and stepping on a few toes. To be blunt, I don’t particularly care. The MMO genre is stagnant, and needs to change in a handful of fundamental ways. High profile games have failed or far undersold expectations. The way forward might just require a forest fire or two to clear the underbrush.
Lum the Mad gets part of it, by pointing out that Darkfall, cesspool of villainy and scum though it may be (by design), needs to succeed, for the sake of the industry.
I go farther by claiming that the industry needs to actively tighten its belt and cut the fat, and the apron strings.
[escalate rant]
The subscription model is past its fresh date, and is actively stifling the industry. Some pubishers will cling to it, whether because of dev delusion, money monkey peer pressure, or by legitimately serving an audience that still finds it to be the pinnacle of value. But the industry needs to move into new market spaces, and new audiences. Otherwise, we won’t escape the Blizzardification of the genre. Some may embrace that, as some may embrace socialism, but it’s not healthy in the long run, as it promotes complacency and stifles creativity.
The DIKU model is overused and underwhelming. It has all but choked off the promise of the MMO genre, turning the vast potential of massive multiplayer design into yet another addictive, vapid dungeon crawl complete with ego stroking and a false sense of accomplishment. Is it profitable? Of course it is, but so are cigarettes, alcohol and porn. It’s scraping the bottom of the barrel, and perpetuating the sense that games are worthless and dangerous.
I do think that games have the potential to be more than they are. They have the potential to do good, and to facilitate education, socialization and even moral growth. Not because the game itself is a preachy pulpit pushing Pharisee, but because it allows people to excel for reasons other than mindless devotion to chasing epic loot and defiling corpses.
The world is more interconnected than ever, thanks to the internet, and games have always been part of human nature. They serve as ways to abstract concepts that might not be dealt with otherwise, contributing to personal and even societal development. The oral history and storytelling tradition that many cultures have used to maintain cultural identity and education is alive and well in games, where the potential is even greater thanks to the interactivity. Yet somehow, MMOs, perhaps the game genre with the greatest potential, have devolved into a stagnant, brainless pool of DIKU WoW wannabes. Devs are trying to build a better mousetrap to steal Blizzard’s cheese, when they should be building flying Deloreans.
[/end escalated rant]
The industry is stuck in a rut, and while some are content to wallow in it, there are others who are not being served, who are sitting on the sidelines with money to give to the devs who finally understand how to reach them. Letting (or making) an MMO (or a dozen) die may be painful for a lot of people, but it may well be the best thing for the long term health of the industry as a whole. We’ve tipped past the point of making deposits to the goodwill account, and are rapidly burning the equity we have left by shoveling out more of the same subscription DIKU offal.
The game industry as a whole does this all the time by burning up its best and brightest young talent, and by swinging with the Orwellian ESRB “mature” mindset, but the MMO genre in particular is relatively young, even within the young industry, and it could use some real maturation, or it may well find itself in its own “lost decade”, where progress and innovation fall prey to the heady aphrodesiac of early success without really understanding its market or the larger realities of the economy and psychology.
[/end Doom and Gloom]
Of course there’s hope for the industry and for the MMO genre. Small projects like Love show that it’s technically possible to innovate, and Free Realms, Puzzle Pirates and the like show new niches for content and business models. The “AAA” titles don’t seem to get it, since they must gamble big to justify spending enough money to hit that AAA rank. They are victims of their own ambition.
No, the true innovations and fun in the MMO genre will come from small, modestly scoped games with different business models and perhaps radically different game designs, content to make fun games and earn their money from serving customers well, rather than trying to be the next McDonald’s of MMO gaming. RPGs are built around content to be consumed, and the MMO genre should be built around its strengths; allowing (not forcing) people to play with other people in unique environments.
Tish Tosh Tesh 
So … I agree that games need to find an end (look at Everquest), but I’m not so sure the current methods of doing so are the proper way to go about it anymore.
I shall explain! Conventionally we see the introduction of a new game via a “2” on the end or through various expansions. I doubt there will ever be a World of Warcraft 2 (god please no), but they keep the game alive via their expansions with the more well-known lore such as WotLK. Fair enough. Everquest had Everquest 2, Asheron’s Call had Asheron’s Call 2 and so on and so forth.
For each of these new games, it’s almost expected that graphics will improve and new hardware will be required. The companies do their best to make sure all levels of hardware can play, from the hardiest, beefiest gaming machines to the tricklers who refuse to update hardware because “there’s always something new, so I’ll just wait a little while” (because that works…).
One thing I’ve never understood was … why the necessary switch from one game world to another? Why does EQ2 have to take place in a world 78547589273 years in the future? I mean yea it’s the story, so in their case it works out, but a living, breathing world shouldn’t HAVE to end. It definitely needs sprucing up and I understand that things are built on certain engines to run in a certain way and those engines may not be the engines the sequels are built on, but still… Why can’t EQ2 be EQ1 in the same world, with the new features, new additions, new races … all accessible to those still playing EQ1?
Perhaps the technology doesn’t exist yet, but personally instead of making EQ2, I would have rather all the features and graphics been applied, the world grown, destroyed, etc in EQ1 for a consistent world.
I agree that worlds need to end. If it seemed like I’ve said otherwise so far, that’s not it. What I’m talking about though, is a slow migration away from the old world into the new world so it follows a story. Involve the players, make it seem like the world is evolving, not just playing in separate realms while labeling your game as a sequel.
Let’s look at the example of EQ again. Let’s say the sequel was announced as EQ2 or whatever clever name you want to give, but instead of “run out and buy this game so you can make new characters and level up again” it’s touted as a living extension, a true sequel. 500 years pass and IN GAME the events shown in the story intro to the current EQ2 actually happen. There IS a sundering, the continents break apart and we see the world change. New things are introduced and people are ushered into the world via these happenings, but they never stop playing EQ. Surviving, everything they knew is a wash and they must start anew.
Know what this entails? That periodic wiping you were talking about, Tesh… Only this time, it’s a wiping of characters for the expansion.
There’s tons of ways to go about it, certainly because people would probably not want to stop playing with the old stuff, so time vortexes and things a la Caverns of Time in WoW would work so people could still explore and have fun there, but the focus is shifted. I guess that’s the best way to explain my sequel idea. The focus of the world is shifted to the new “expansion, sequel, whatever,” the features grow, the tech improves, etc.
Holy crap that was a blog post in itself.
*chuckle*
I’m kind of hoping that’s par for the course on this one. It’s the longest article I’ve written, with plenty to riff off of.
Thanks for commenting. I’m a bit torn because I understand the desire for a place to play that doesn’t really change, since we are creatures of habit, but I also like the concept of a world that evolves, especially based on player input. But even beyond that, as in real life, people move on. They grow up, get married, have kids, and eventually die. Gamers start games, love or hate them, tell their friends about them, then just stop playing them.
And that’s OK. It’s healthy to be able to move on. If anything, there’s a sense that someone who doesn’t “get over it” and doesn’t move on with life is somehow broken. Why do we expect games to be any different, especially MMOs, which are, in many ways, microcosms of real life, just framed a bit differently?
The static world of modern MMO design, exemplified in WoW, where almost NOTHING ever changes, may well be just as psychologically broken as that eighty year old who still talks about the War. We listen to him if we’re kind, respecting his service and sacrifice, but some part of us just wants to shake him and say “Good grief, man! Look at your lovely grandchildren and start living the life you have now! They need you, not the War!”
…I’m obviously combining several things here, and probably muddying the waters, but the more I look at the industry and its stagnation, the more I want to shake it up and say “Good grief, devs! Look at the players who want something vital, interesting, and ALIVE! They need you to snap out of it, and they are willing to pay for it!”
If you want, you can delete / trim down my first comment. I’ve decided to actually blog about it on my site since I basically wrote an entire post for you here 😛 If not that’s kew too.
I’m all for long comments. My only criteria for deleting or editing comments is if they are rude, crude or profane. As long as there’s something worth saying, I’m happy to have it posted. Of course, if you want to split off part of the conversation, by all means, give us a link once you’ve got your post written. 😀
Speaking of links, here’s another good post on the same sort of themes I’m trying to touch on here:
http://digitalflux.com/blogs/archives/27
[…] topic is inspired by a topic Tesh has acknowledged on his site about whether or not MMOs should have an ending. While he argues that yes, they should […]
Tesh wrote:
My only criteria for deleting or editing comments is if they are rude, crude or profane.
Now I have a goal in life!
To the topic at hand: like the concept of “innovation” in games, lots of people say they want something different in MMOs, but few people are putting any money where their mouth is.
The core problem is the audience. They’re obviously more than happy playing WoW. Despite the unrest some people feel about the game, and the definite “blah” factor I’ve felt personally, people are quick to point out that we’re in the minority compared to 11.5 million other people who enjoy it. (I’ve pretty much given up explaining why that’s a bogus number…)
The goal of a good game developer is to give players what they didn’t even know they wanted. The problem is that it’s really hard to get them to try something different and new, often because there’s a certain amount of inertia based on social connections. Blizzard won big with WoW because they were able to tap into the rabid enthusiasm they had developed over the years from their single-player games. Few others are going to be able to match that, if anyone even can.
Next you have the developers themselves. Lots of developers fell over themselves to defend other games. Developers boldly stood up and stated that Blizzard’s success would bring new life to the genre. Now we see some developers finally understanding that the big costs and big expectations for success are actually killing the industry slowly. Something some of us smaller developers have been saying for a really long time already.
But, as a developer, if you do have different ideas, then people accuse you of “hating the players” for not listening to them. I’ve had that accusation leveled at me more than once by other developers. I still believe that the best games come from strong, central creative direction. Once you have the direction, you can build on that success with a franchise that keeps that core alive, or takes it in interesting new directions. But, you still need that interesting, core idea.
I’d love to do something new and different. The problem is finding enough people to share my vision. Developers are scared of risks. Investors haven’t exactly been falling over themselves to fund my ideas (not that the economic crisis helped that out). The audience is proving themselves too fickle to really develop a reasonable following to make the other two groups less flighty.
In the end, we’re going to see the same crap over and over again. Until enough people decide there’s going to be a real change. I’ve been hoping for about a decade that things would change; so far, they haven’t.
“Now I have a goal in life!”
Ruh roh. Why do I get the feeling that I’ve made a terrible mistake?
Aye, the industry is thoroughly mired in a rut of its own making. I take solace in the success of Puzzle Pirates, Wizard 101 and Guild Wars.
I’ve been reading up a bit on Nintendo’s “disruption” strategy. Their Wii, with a radically different target audience and wildly different strategy as compared to Sony or Microsoft, has become a disruptive force in the console world. Sure, there’s no Gears of Warcraft: The Awakening on the system, but between the Wii and the DS, they are outselling their competitors. That’s got to count for something.
In MMO-land, I figure that the best strategy is to build small (and under budget) and work to build a strong community, not unlike what Three Rings has done with Puzzle Pirates. You can’t outWoW WoW, that much should be obvious. It’s stupidly expensive to try.
Make a smaller, modestly scoped game that’s still insanely fun, though, and you’ll find an audience. That’s why I don’t write about making the next DIKU strain game, I look in different directions.
If I had money to put, I’d put it into such a venture. I’m pressed enough to keep my family safe and fed. Now, if I were single and carefree, maybe I’d tinker, but as it is…
That’s why I look at the open source world, and things like the Hero Engine. And why I spend my time on smaller projects, intending to work my way up. It’s modest, and geared for the long run, but if the economy is teaching anything, it’s that gambling is still a dumb idea.
I’d love to get my hands on Hero Engine just to see what I could do with it. I’d need some base models for the graphics and textures for the world, but aside from that … I mean even Multiverse has base stuff you can use and edit for your world to get it going 😛
It really sucks when you feel like you’re the only person (or group of people) who know that the ideas you can come up with would radically change (for the better) the industry you love so much, but no one with the cash has the balls to adopt them.
That’s the biggest problem right now: everyone is STILL riding the coattails of WOW. Why? People play … and play … and play. Why do they play? Because there’s nothing better. I find myself jumping between 3-4 MMOs each month to keep myself occupied enough to not hate the gaming situation.
Maybe I should refocus that energy to something more productive *rubs chin*
B work is so, so bad for the soul. It’s sticky, too; It’s hard to unlearn those bad habits when you need to start doing A work.
In this particular case, I disagree with Brian that the “in character” closing of the game was insensitive or undesirable. I’d hate it if the last episode of the sopranos turned into a 4th-wall-breaking roundtable with the actors, and by the same token I think it’s appropriate to end the game world in a fictional way.
I’m surprised and impressed that the team still cared enough to put so much effort into it.
Yes, online worlds are expendable. I think that’s only a natural consequence of there being a lot more of them now. This came up on f13 recently too, when somebody noticed that now games die, when unsuccessful games from ten or even five years ago seem to limp along forever.
I think it’s ok for things not to last. I don’t expect to play the same game, stay in the same relationship, keep the same job, or watch the same show for ten years. It’s nice if things work out in such a way that something you really like lasts a long time, but the end of something doesn’t invalidate its existence. In fact, something infinite has no worth at all.
Tesh, I think your anger at the subscription model and DIKU design are somewhat misplaced. This is something I’ll post about soon. Almost all bad MMOs are DIKU, but that’s only because almost all MMOs are DIKU.
In the parallel universe where levelless, gearless, classless MMOs evolved to become the norm, there are just as many bad designers and cowardly companies. In that alternate dimension, all the enlightened players and burned out devs are clamoring for something new and innovative, like a game with levels and gear.
Assuming that a game just like wow will be good is very flawed logic. But assuming that a game completely unlike wow will be good is flawed in exactly the same way. They’re the same thought process, which conflates a list of features for actual good or bad design.
What we should be really mad at are people who are copying wow for lack of actual good design, esPECially those people who don’t understand why wow is good, and copying all the wrong parts.
Kevin Maginn, the lead designer for PotBS, has a great post on this topic, where he perfectly describes this effect as a kind of cargo cult:
http://haven.thratchen.com/?p=21
Great post. My reader is exploding with too much good stuff this week.
Mike
Yes, the TR ending was a class act, methinketh. If the devs were really “salting the fields” on their way out, dejected and hopeless, they wouldn’t have put any effort into closure at all, they would have just let it die quietly, maybe even put in some easter egg (or overt) graffiti.
Regarding the sub/MT dichotomy, I’ll cite Daniel James again. He wrote, rightly, that in a MT model, you have to build a solid relationship first, then the money can come because people appreciate your work. My reflection on that is that in a sub model, you have their money already, before they even step in the door, so you can get away with doing less to “earn” it. (Compare the quality of food in a buffet with that in a typical “pay after the meal” setting.) That’s especially true with a DIKU model, since it’s heavily built on addictive mechanics that create inertia without needing huge investments in quality content. Progress Quest lampoons that very well, as does that Linear RPG that I posted a link to a couple of days ago.
Can DIKU be done right? Sure, and I’m not saying that it can’t, but it’s way easier to do cheaply, and as long as game companies answer to shareholders, that ROI bottom line will inevitably and inexorably push for better margins, which means B work. It’s cheap, it’s effective, it pays… it’s just bad for the soul, bad for game design, and bad for the long term. The DIKU model isn’t the only culprit, no, but DIKU design and subscriptions feed each other in a ROI-driven quality death spiral. Each can be done well, but the inherent liabilities of each, and the focus on addictive inertia over continual quality, leads to grind, design ruts and a stagnant market that pits everything against the gorilla in the room, which is the most effective B work with the best ROI, not the best A work.
The game industry at large does this with human capital, too; hence the ea_spouse kerfluffle. Churn and burn is easy to settle into when the willing (and often ignorant) victims line up to be fed into the wood chipper. It’s the path of least resistance, with the best ROI, at least for the short term.
In that context, the beauty of a solid MT system is that people pay for stuff they know they like, not stuff they hope they will like. That’s a subtle distinction, perhaps, but it’s a significant shift in psychology.
As to the topic at hand, a sub game wants to keep going; that’s how it earns its money. There’s a business push to keep games going longer than would be prudent if you’re wanting to keep the company/game IP and customer relationship positive. Look at the zombie games in the Sony Station Pass stable. We’re generally not talking about great games, but leaving them on life support, trying to milk a few more sub dollars out of them, dilutes even what credibility they have left.
That’s the dark side of the desire I have for maintaining archival access to older games. The nostalgia factor is often lost when we look at them and see the warts and flaws. If a game is a hit for a while, forming great memories, and then starts to slide, it’s best to can it and move on. Let people remember it for the gem they thought it was, and maintain your reputation. Continuing to charge full price subs for older, surpassed work (that’s not being maintained or improved commensurate to the sub price) is obvious milking, and at some point, even fans can grow to resent that.
Look at SWG. They would have done better to leave the original, maybe even pull the plug, and move on to make the NGE into a new game. As it is, they annoyed veterans and failed to pull in a significant number of new players. (More “me too” design failure was a part of that, definitely.) They withdrew too much from the goodwill bank, and the game faltered, polluting the goodwill built up in the original title.
I really do agree that almost all the things you say are bad are actually are bad. I just disagree that what you think will fix it may not actually fix it.
You know I also like that quote from Daniel James, and he’s right. But I ALSO believe he’s probably the kind of designer who would manage to make a subscription game that didn’t feel exploitive of its players.
Good developers will make good games, in any genre with any business model. Bad developers will make bad games, in any genre, with any business model. I just think not enough emphasis is being placed on that fact.
“a stagnant market that pits everything against the gorilla in the room, which is the most effective B work with the best ROI, not the best A work”
I don’t think it’s fair to call WoW B work (if that’s not what you’re implying, then never mind). WoW is the best example of A work we have in DIKU so far, although I hardly believe it’s a parfect game. It has solved a few of the big problems that are out there, but it has also introduced some.
I’m no WoW fanboy necessarily, and I haven’t played it in a year, but just the fact that they consistently take too long to release their content, which results in lost subscribers, is a pretty solid indication to me that they are taking the time to make things as great as they can, not shoving out soulkilling crap.
I’m excited as the next gamer to see more games branch out from this model, emphasize skill more, de-emphasize levels and gear, allow the world to change more.
What really worries me, though is the number of bad developers badly designing bad games, which a fundamental shift in paradigm or business model can’t really fix The greedy companies will still find ways to pump out crap, and to sell the minimum content they can get away with for the most money possible.
The more I think about game design, the more I realize that the genre, fiction, or business model shouldn’t really matter to a good designer. Good design is making a game that feels perfectly suited to whatever audience, platform, genre, or IP you may have stuck in front of you.
It’s distressing to me that we can’t make better games out of such an established set of elements at this point. Designing bad games that only feel how they were intended to feel a fraction of the time is a much bigger problem to me than the lack of originality in concepts. Because at this point those new concepts would come to just as flawed a fruition.
Maybe a musical analogy is a bit more apt. When I hear a song that I hate, that doesn’t mean I hate music. It doesn’t mean I hate that genre of music, or even that band. It means I hate that one specific song, but it’s so easy to confuse disliking the song for disliking one or all of those other things.
There are only 12 notes in Western music, which people have been using for thousands of years. When people make bad music with those notes, it doesn’t mean we need better notes, it just means they’re a bad musician. This is how I feel about design.
I agree with you that there are a lot of companies out there that are pushing bad work out the door, but the really sad part is that a lot of them believe they’re making the next great game. Some places are actively pursuing B quality work, but even then there are people on those teams who are trying their damnedest.
It’s a very complex problem and now I guess I’m probably just talking to hear my own voice =\
oops.
“Bad developers will make bad games, in any genre, with any business model. I just think too much emphasis is being placed on that fact.”
Too much should be not enough. I rewrote that sentence and left the wrong part in.
I used my secret ninja admin powers to fix that. 🙂
I do believe that WoW is currently in the B phase of its development, content to ride the inertia. It started out as A work, and has maintained a bit of an edge, but the core design is musty by now. I’m not consigning it to worthlessness, but neither can I hold it up as a shining epitome of design. It’s perhaps the best DIKU game out there, yes, but looking at MMO design as a whole, not just the DIKU strain, I can’t really give top marks to WoW. I do still like the game, certainly, but I do in spite of its flaws, not because it’s perfect, or even what I’d consider A work.
Other than that admittedly highly subjective assessment, I agree with your post, and yes, bad designers will create shovelware in any climate. My point is just that some climates are more conducive to making garbage, and I consider the sub model to be a “risk factor” for bad design, at least, more of one than the MT model, which has its own problems.
Yep, I think you’re right. And one of the weak points of DIKU is after the level cap has been raised too far, so the older WoW gets, the more all that abandoned zones, wasted content stuff will feel more clunky.
…which, interestingly enough, comes full circle to the idea of letting older games die out. 😀
[…] topic is inspired by a topic Tesh has acknowledged on his site about whether or not MMOs should have an ending. One of the larger posts on this topic […]