Aside from playing arcade games like Pac-Man back in the 80s, I’m not a video game person. Never cared much for it, think I never will. So I was not looking forward to reading Julian Dibbell’s Play Money. I thought the book would not engage me. But I was wrong. I guess the old adage still rings true: never judge a book by its cover. Dibbell’s journey in how he made millions trading virtual loot was very revealing at times, but disconnected in certain parts. Some of his journal-like entries and IM logs lacked cohesiveness. But with or without millions, Play Money was still an enjoyable read.
Dibbell’s account of the economics of gaming in the virtual world was surprising. It had an unexpected philosophical tone and texture that I would not have associated with MMORPGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games). Dibbell’s narrative helped me develop a deeper understanding of some of the motivations involved in the participation of fantasy world play.
Dungeons and Dragons may not appeal to many people, but the idea that that world can duplicate imaginable improvements to the real world is a noble notion. Furthermore, Dibbell is able to demystify the narrow view that many may hold that gamers are just geeks with no social life and time to waste by discussing how gamers enjoy what they do and view their money-making efforts in online gaming like any other endeavor that is worthwhile. Gaming, as it happens, requires a lot of concentration and allegedly makes gamers’ self-consciousness disappear which, in turn, causes the sense of time to become distorted. That hook may explain why people pay to participate in virtual games. Yet, I think there’s a perceived addiction element to online gaming (and gambling, as a general comparison) that Dibbell didn’t quite get to address.
It was disturbing to learn how pervasive game cheating and rogue practices in the virtual world are. In fact, I believe that the greatest threats to online gaming are those types of problems. The existence of gold farmers and other robo schemes that prey on online gaming are frightening and they truly undermine a market that could be even more successful than it is. Learning what Dibbell uncovers on that front makes me highly unlikely to ever try online gaming. And aside from major technology developments and tougher gaming rules, change will not happen any time soon. Thus, so long as companies like Ultima Online and Blacksnow Interactive continue to operate as they do, online gaming as an economy model is more bad fantasy than good.
Additionally, and perhaps most importantly, Dibbell leaves one important question in the air. In discussing a virtual goods market with worldwide annual sales upwards of $900 million, I felt that Dibbell never quite presented the full picture of that market structure. More precisely, who owns the wealth of virtual worlds — the companies that create those worlds or the players who fuel those micro economies?
So here’s 600,000 gold to whoever has an answer. But let it be known that my offer is for make-believe purposes only and has no real-world curreny value.
Posted by Genilson
Posted by Genilson
Posted by Genilson