Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Eat The Rich

I rarely do this, but I got mad at an editorial, and now I'm writing about it on my blog!

The Washington Post Editorial Board recently wrote an editorial arguing that an increase in the capital gains tax rate would eliminate the need for a wealth tax. It's one of the dumbest things I've read, and it's a huge bummer to see it published in my favorite newspaper.

 

It's flat-out wrong, misleading, or missing the point from top to bottom. Hitting a few highlights here:

* They say that if the wealth tax is implemented, when the price of Tesla stock goes down, Elon would get a "tax cut". He would actually get zero dollars from the government when his wealth went down. Instead, he would pay a smaller tax the following year. If Tesla went bankrupt and Musk's net wealth was zero dollars, then he would owe zero tax. I'm not even sure what they're trying to say here.

* They lament that people with high wealth but low income (e.g. wealthy heirs) would have to sell stock in order to pay the tax. That isn't a bug, it's the whole feature! First of all, if you're doing anything at all with your wealth, you'll easily be able to afford the tax. (Your 100 million shares of $10 stock are worth $1 billion. They go up 4%. You owe 3%. You sell shares to pay $30 million in tax. You're now worth $1.01 billion.)

* Secondly, the whole point of this is to shake up the entrenched wealth of the top .0001%. We shouldn't be bending over backwards to ensure that billionaires can live comfortably in perpetuity.

* They worry about a downward spiral in markets. But markets are overwhelmingly owned by the wealthiest people. Stock is like any other asset: when it comes down in price, it's more affordable. If the stock market crashed in half today, people who automatically contribute to 401k's would be able to buy twice as many stocks as before the crash. Let's say it again for the millionth time: Wall Street is not the real economy, and we should not allow stock prices to dictate our economic policy. Markets should reflect reality, not drive it.

* They then pivot and say that the rich also have other assets that aren't easy to price, like fine art (maybe) and real estate (absolutely false). This is a specific point that Warren repeatedly addressed during her campaign, and I find it impossible to believe that the Washington Post Editorial Board isn't aware of it. As Piketty and others have shown, the vast majority of the wealth of the wealthy is held in financial securities. Fine art and the like is an infinitesimal fraction of that amount. Saying that it's hopeless to tax 98% of the wealth because it's hard to estimate the value of the remaining 2% is asinine. That would be like saying that because some people are paid in DogeCoin and that's hard to price we should stop withholding FICA payments on payrolls in US dollars. So, let's start collecting that 98% today, and tackle the remaining odds and ends (art, patents, copyrights, etc.) when we get to it.

* Piketty wrote at length in Capital And Ideology about why the European wealth taxes of the 1990s were a disappointment, and the very simple technical fixes to address them. (Use more progressive rates, re-appraise annually, don't let the uber-wealthy hide their wealth in secret tax havens.) I guess the Washington Post Editorial Board hasn't read this book. They really really should before they spout out about the wealth tax. Why the hell argue against something you don't understand?

* Reforming property taxes (real estate tax) is the dumbest possible way to try and reduce the wealth gap. The wealth of the middle class is mostly held in real estate, while the wealth of the top 1% is overwhelmingly held in financial assets. You could increase Jeff Bezos's property tax rate by 5000% and it wouldn't make any noticeable impact on his wealth.

* And yes, we should also increase the capital gains rates as the editorial says. The two are not mutually exclusive, which is why folks like Piketty and Warren argue for both!

* And refreshing the estate taxes would also be a great move to make. But again, not mutually exclusive! And estate taxes would not be needed as badly in a world with wealth taxes. It's a choice between a big bite at the moment of death, and smaller levies over a series of years.

* The editorial says in its final paragraph "If the inheritance tax were more substantial people could still aspire to bestow a legacy on their children, but without unduly perpetuating unearned privilege." That contradicts what they are arguing for. Without a wealth tax, and with an inheritance tax less than 100%, parents could bestow legacies on their children that last their entire lives, that will grow over their entire lives, and that they will pass down to subsequent generations, in perpetuity, without anyone needing to ever do any work. I'd call that "unduly perpetuating unearned privilege". Again, the whole point of a wealth tax is to stop exactly that. You can still get wealthy, and you can still inherit wealth, but you have to do something with it, or do something on your own, or else your vast fortune will over the years become merely a respectable fortune.

They say that Part 3 of this editorial is coming soon. I hope it isn't the hot garbage that Part 2 was.

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Wiki Wiki

 Be forewarned, this post is even more rambly than usual.

I'm mostly creating this post to help nudge Google's SEO to pick up the new Fallen London Wiki, which has recently relocated to a new home. Well, "relocated" might be too tame a term. "Escaped an abusive relationship and started a fresh life" might be more accurate.

I have a long, albeit tenuous, connection with the wiki. When I first started playing Fallen London about a decade ago, there were two separate community-driven wikis. I believe that the wikidot was first; its domain name even reflects the original title of the game, Echo Bazaar. This wiki focused on gameplay and strategy; in particular, I found its item conversion tables invaluable. In contrast, the wikia was more of a straight dump of the game contents, focused on storylets: you could look up anything in the game to see what was required to make it appear, what the options were, what requirements each option had, and what each choice did.

There was some mild-mannered back-and-forth between the wiki community and Failbetter Games. Since Fallen London is almost entirely composed of text, the company was understandably not enthusiastic about their entire game essentially getting mirrored into a clickable alternative, allowing people to essentially "play" through the game without any Candle limitations. A few principles got established early on that thankfully continue to this day. First, no details can be provided on the wiki about stuff that requires Fate, i.e. spending real-world money. Secondly, there is a character limit on how much text from each storylet body can be present in an article. In practice, this has meant that you can read a summary or gist of what an action does, but will need to play it to experience the actual content.

I was a very active Fallen London player in those days, and that extended to Wiki contributions: I created the entry for the Rumourmaster's Network (now renamed Rumourmonger's Network), filled in descriptors for the higher levels of Scholar of the Correspondence, and filled in lots of details about random ranges, seasonal events and other things. I'm no longer at the vanguard of content discovery, so these days I just use the wiki as a reference. It has some absolutely excellent tools and calculators, including a best-in-slot calculator that was essential prior to the expansion of Outfits and remains extremely useful today. (Fortunately, the retirement of Paramount Presence of the Ancient Regime and the invention of new stat caps has removed the need for me use the wiki to look up each and every new action before I click on it to ensure that it will not remove 1 CP of one of my main stats.)

At some point along the line, Wikia rebranded to Fandom, which I believe was a universal move. Let's take a little tangent and talk about that!

Almost all wikis are based on MediaWiki, the open-source engine that drives Wikipedia. In the early days of Wikipedia, people embraced its ethos as the "everything encyclopedia": you could write an entry about literally anything, and there was an explosion of content and communities building out vast webs of documentation about their passions. Prior to this, information on a given commercial project was usually limited to one of two forms: either an official web site, maintained by the creator of that project and typically limited to a very high-level summary of it; or a community forum, which contained a vast amount of content of varying quality that was difficult to search but likely had the information you sought. Wikipedia seemed like a great solution to the problem of making knowledge discoverable: if you wanted to figure out what issue of Bone first revealed the identity of the farmer, or how many members were in the Minibosses music group, or who the most prolific graffiti artists in San Francisco were, you could head to Wikipedia and find out. And, on the off chance it wasn't there yet, you could do some research and create your own entry, which other users would later polish and correct and refine.

That golden era came to an end in the Great Crackdown. I mostly experienced this with the Webcomic Purge, when dozens and then hundreds of Wikipedia pages were taken down for lack of "notability". A daily newspaper comic that nobody talks about deserved an entry; a daily web comic that got millions of views and spawned a passionate following did not. The purge continued, ruthlessly removing all entries that did not meet the editors' arbitrary standards of notability. (As you might suspect, these reflect the biases you would associate from white nerds. To this day there is a long and informative article about the Vala on Wikipedia; any similar entry on a less-revered property would certainly face deletion.)

Fortunately, there was an alternative! (Sarcasm alert.) While the Wikimedia Foundation is a non-profit, it just so happened to have a for-profit alternative, Wikia. Founded and run by the same people as Wikipedia, and running the same software, but instead of creating a single repository for all human knowledge it segmented each topic into a separate site, and served ads on those sites to make money. To this day I remain convinced that Wikipedia intentionally drove away these vibrant, active communities so they could make money off of them on Wikia instead.

MediaWiki itself will always remain open source, and over the years quite a few other competitors have entered this space. I ran into a lot of headaches related to this during my Shadowrun days. A trend has grown for game companies to establish an "official" site for a wiki, perhaps seeding it with some art and content but leaving it up to players to maintain and fill it in. When Shadowrun Returns first launched, their official wiki was on a domain called wikispaces.com. A ton of great content went up in there: Harebrained Schemes wrote a few articles giving details on the editor, and I and a lot of other creators wrote various tutorials and guides and other stuff. But, wikispaces went away, as you will see if you try to visit that domain now.

Prior to the launch of Shadowrun Hong Kong, HBS migrated over to a new wiki on Gamepedia, copying some (but definitely not all) of the old content and guides. That has been the main source of community knowledge in recent years, though honestly you'll likely get better results by searching Google and finding a relevant Reddit thread; we seem to be back to the old days where the best content could only be found in forums.

I contributed to the Gamepedia for a while, but threw a hissy fit when they got bought out by someone called Curse Media, and then forced me to create a Twitch account to continue editing articles. I can't justify how mad I was, but I walked away and never touched that wiki again.

If you try to go to the Shadowrun Gamepedia today, you'll be taken to Fandom, which is the new rebranding of Wikia. It's becoming yet another monopoly, swallowing up all of the alternatives that were out there and bringing all properties under its banner. After reading Goliath, I am very radicalized against the trend towards consolidation, crushing the little guy and creating big, terrible companies that give everyone an awful experience.

The monopoly wasn't the tipping point for the Fallen London wiki, though. The community editors faced a host of issues that they thoughtfully documented. One of the most germane problems for readers of the Fandom wiki, though, is that it's absolutely unusable on mobile. In recent months I've had to deal with full-screen takeovers, autoplaying videos, pages that jump around to trick you into clicking on ads, and all sorts of slimy, awful stuff. Fortunately my adblocker on my PC does a good job at removing that stuff, but that's no consolation to folks who try and read the wiki from their phones and tablets.

And yes, of course this is a direct result of Fandom establishing a virtual monopoly over the wiki space. If they were merely one of many players, they wouldn't be able to get away with providing such awful service with such aggressive ads.

The move to a new non-Fandom wiki site may be a quixotic quest; currently "Fallen London wiki" still shows the old Fandom site as the first result, and the .wiki on page 2 of results. But hopefully that will change. One especially awesome thing is that Failbetter Games is supporting this change, even though they historically haven't had anything to do with the old wikis: they announced the wiki move to players, added a wiki link to their FAQ, and even offered to pay the hosting costs for the new site. I think that's really amazing of them.

Hopefully there will be more moves like this in the future. Apparently the Fallen London community move was inspired by the Runescape Wiki's escape several years ago; that move seems to be very successful, and their wiki is now very easy to find. I do wonder if, in the future, more companies will move towards hosting their own wikis in the same way they used to host their own forums. It does blur the line between community and company, for better or worse, but on balance I'd take that solution over further fattening the Fandom monopoly.

Soooo anyways, if you play Fallen London please update your bookmark for the wiki and save yourself from watching a thousand terrible ads!

Wednesday, January 06, 2021

A Political Post

In 1932, the National Socialist party won a plurality of seats in the Reichstag. The other political parties in Germany refused to join in coalition with them, leaving a minority government in control through the end of the year.


That changed in 1933, when Franz von Papen, the head of the conservative Zentrum Party, agreed to join in coalition with the National Socialists, raising Adolf Hitler to the post of Chancellor. Papen believed that Hitler was a useful fool, a buffoon, who he could manipulate and use to secure his own political position. Hitler had other plans. After the Reichstag fire, Papen supported the Enabling Act, ending representative democracy in Germany. Papen was shoved aside, along with the rest of his party, once the Night of Long Knives had passed and the Nazification of Germany was complete. Democracy would not be restored until more than a decade later after tens of millions of people had been killed.

History does not repeat itself, and America is not on the same course as Germany in the 1930s. Our poor are less desperate, and we do not yet have ubiquitous paramilitary forces. But we would be foolish to ignore the lessons of history.

Fascists always start out as political minorities. As long as they are shut out of power, they will stay that way: the tools of the state are sufficient defense against a dangerous and violent internal force. But once they are let in to power, they will not retreat or surrender. Fascism ultimately believes that the people must be subordinate to their rulers, not the other way around, so votes are meaningless. Fascism thrives on conflict, seeking glory in conquering enemies. And there will always be enemies. Fascism is predicated on differentiating the pure from the "other", and has an existential need for someone to fight.

One advantage the United States has at the moment is a relatively unified left. By its nature, the left will never be as united as the right; but we are in a much better situation historically than Germany was. If the left parties in Germany had managed to work together, a great crisis might have been averted.

But ultimately, it's the right in America that will have the more important job over the next decade. Will they give in to temptation like Franz von Papen, welcoming the energy and support of ultra-right nationalists? Or will they remain true to their stated principles, following the tradition of the post-WW2 GOP, and denounce the antidemocratic pull?

So far, the signs are very discouraging. It feels like a dike is bursting. The most powerful and influential leaders in the Republican Party are not using their power to defend representative democracy: they are pouring gasoline on the fire, parroting false grievances, systematically eroding faith in the democratic process itself.

I'm not one to impugn motives; I can't see into anyone's soul. They may think that desperate dictatorial measures are necessary because they fear what their foes may do in power. They may truly disdain democracy and think it unnecessary. Some might even have become unmoored from reality, believing the ludicrous conspiracy theories spun from the darkest corners from the Internet.

While I don't judge motives, I do judge actions, and far too many politicians have taken a dangerous plunge on the road from democracy to fascism, of overturning the voters' will and imposing their own. My goal over the next 2-6 years will be to get as many of these people out of office as possible. In some cases that might mean holding my nose and supporting a primary challenger. More often it will mean supporting their opponent in a general election.

While many are guilty, the senators who falsely claimed electoral fraud and opposed the peaceful transfer of power have the greatest responsibility for our decline. They are:

Marsha Blackburn
Mike Braun
Ted Cruz
Steve Daines
Bill Hagerty
Josh Hawley
Cindy Hyde-Smith
Ron Johnson
John Neely Kennedy
James Lankford
Kelly Loeffler
Cynthia Lummis
Roger Marshall
Rick Scott
Tommy Tuberville

Of all of these, Josh Hawley is probably the one that concerns me the most. He is the vanguard of a social-nativist movement, akin to the National Front in France, the AfD in Germany, or the PiS in Poland. While a big responsibility of the right will be to expel fascists and reaffirm faith in democracy, a big responsibility of the left will be ensuring people like Hawley cannot outflank on economic issues and create an enduring nationalist bloc. In my view, one of the biggest bullets we dodged during the Trump administration was Steve Bannon's failure to realign the Republican Party along economically populist lines. Folks like Hawley are picking up that cause, and it may be one of the biggest risks of our era.

We have a lot of work ahead of us, but it's incredibly important work. I hope you will help if you can.

Friday, October 11, 2019

Everything Is Political

It's been a few years since the last time I plugged a Kickstarter campaign on this blog. And... it may not happen again.

One of the more surprising and encouraging trends of the last couple of years has been a resurgence in labor organizing in media companies. Numerous newsrooms have unionized, and those labor protections have proven to be the best (perhaps only?) defense against the pillage-and-burn corporate raiders who have decimated local new sources across the country. Billionaires will buy newspapers, sell off their assets, load them up with debt, lay off experienced senior reporters, back-fill their jobs with temps and freelancers, and eventually declare bankruptcy after they have extracted all value from these once-prestigious organizations. For all this country's problems, we do still have some good labor laws on the books, and having a unionized newsroom halts that process in its tracks, as new owners cannot capriciously fire their employees, making those media companies less enticing acquisitions in the first place and limiting the damage they can do even if purchased. A century ago we relied on the benevolence of plutocrats to fund "independent" news as a matter of prestige and influence; these days, a mistaken belief that all institutions must be solely oriented towards maximizing profits will degrade and destroy news, and it's up to the workers at the bottom rather than the owners at the top to stop that slide.

What I actually want to write about, though, is video games! There's been an increasing drumbeat for organizing within these companies too. Such a move is long overdue: major AAA publishers are notorious sweatshops, and we've been reading horror stories for decades about how employees at companies like Electronic Arts are expected to work hundred-hour weeks while being paid for forty, enduring crippling psychological stress and damage to their physical health and family relationships. The underlying problem of broadly classifying white-collar workers in an "exempt" category initially intended for managers is not unique to the video game industry, but that industry is particularly egregious in abusing the system and its employees. This does seem like a textbook example of necessary industrial organizing, as the market cannot solve it on its own: there's a surplus of people who want to work in the industry, leaving little financial incentive for companies to treat their workers right. None of these pushes for unionizing have actually been successful yet, but more and more attention is being paid to them at developer conferences, in politics, in the media and on social platforms, and I'm optimistic that some changes may happen in the coming years.

The latest labor story in the games world isn't about a game developer, though: it's about Kickstarter, which has played a vital role in indie-game and small-studio development over the past decade. A month ago Kickstarter fired employees who had organized a (not-yet-recognized) union in a pretty blatant act of retaliation. Like a lot of stuff in the news lately, the story started out bad, and became drastically worse when management doubled down on it, speaking out harshly on the firings and attempting to intimidate their remaining staff.

The world today is a lot more fraught than it was in 2016, but one silver lining is that folks are more politically aware and engaged these days. I can imagine a story like this just being ignored and fading away years ago, but in today's more activism-oriented environment, it has swiftly caught fire. There were widespread calls to boycott Kickstarter; interestingly, the union specifically requested people to not boycott, as they still hope to come to terms with management and keep Kickstarter healthy and more ethical in the future.

I know that I personally am finding it difficult to make pledges on Kickstarter when I know the company will take a cut of my pledge, and those profits will ultimately reward union-busters. But, the world is complicated! Those pledge cuts also fund the salaries of the brave workers who are still fighting for their union. Unlike some other organizations out there, I definitely don't want to see Kickstarter destroyed, I want to see them redeemed.

Creators are in an even trickier position. Kickstarter is by far the most popular go-to funding site; but everything is political, and by launching a new project on Kickstarter today, creators are making a statement that they're OK with the anti-labor practices there.

Fortunately, there are other choices out there! We've seen a variety of alternative crowd-funding platforms spring up in recent years, as well as alternative funding models, and some mid-sized organizations with established fanbases have started doing their crowd-funding in-house.

This is all stuff that I've been following with interest over the last month or so, but I'm specifically thinking of it now because of a very recent announcement. David Gaider is one of my all-time favorite people in the video game industry, right up there with Sid Meier, Warren Spector and Richard Garriott. He's written extensively for many of my all-time favorite games, including Baldur's Gate 2 and the Dragon Age franchise; and like my other heroes, he's also written and spoken extensively about his experiences creating games and his evolving philosophy about making them.

Anyways, he's jumped around a little in recent years: he left the Dragon Age team to become the lead writer on Anthem in its earliest stages, then left BioWare altogether to work on a yet-to-be-announced project at Beamdog (who have most famously created the Enhanced Editions of the classic BioWare Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter games). He's been working in Australia recently, and at PAX Australia he announced the first game from the new studio he founded.



Yep, that's right: a video-game musical! Chorus is checking every single one of my boxes: narrative focus, characters bursting into song at dramatic moments, and, yes, references to romance.

From following Gaider and Summerfall's Twitter in recent weeks, I'd overheard (over-read?) their angst about funding: they had been planning to run the campaign on Kickstarter, but felt they couldn't morally support it at this time, which I appreciate the heck out of. That wasn't an easy decision to make! They already had marketing plans all lined up, with specific dates in mind to make the announcement for maximum impact, and it must have been really stressful to scramble and find an alternative. Again, fortunately, there are alternatives out there, and Fig looks like a great fit. Unlike many other crowdfunding sites, this one was specifically designed for games, and was founded by veterans of the first wave of Kickstarted games like Double Fine and inXile.

That rising consciousness about ethical behavior in gaming has really exploded in the last week thanks to the catastrophic events at Blizzard's Hearthstone tournament. For those who haven't already heard: Wai Chung Ng (aka "blitzchung") is a professional Hearthstone player from Hong Kong who reached Grandmaster rank and won thousands of dollars at the recent championships tournament. In a post-game interview, he concluded by donning a gas mask (worn by protesters in Hong Kong) and saying "Liberate Hong Kong, revolution of our time!". Blizzard, who created Hearthstone and runs the official tournaments, immediately banned him, fired the people interviewing him, took back all of his prize money, and put out a statement excoriating him.

Well. People, uh, noticed!

There was an immediate outcry, which has only intensified as the week went on. Players throughout the gaming community have blasted Blizzard's actions and called for widespread boycotts of their games. In recent days, more and more professionals are voluntarily cutting off their ties with Blizzard in protest of the action. The incident has spread significantly beyond the community, though, probably because it occurred during a time when people were already paying attention to American companies censoring speech to appease the mainland Chinese government. In the week before the blitzchung incident, the NBA came under fire after it punished the general manager of the Houston Rockets for speaking in support of the Hong Kong protesters; the NBA reversed course, and those basketball games are now banned in China. A recent South Park episode similarly drew the ire of China, resulting in all mentions of the show being banned within the country.

All of this attention has led to a curiously bipartisan alignment pitting corporations against the American public and citizenry. Both the liberal Democratic Oregon senator Ron Wyden and the conservative Republican Florida senator Marco Rubio publicly criticized Blizzard's actions, rightfully asking why an American company is kowtowing to an autocratic regime and censoring the free speech of its customers. I'm shocked to be in agreement with Marco Rubio!

The most baffling thing to me has been Blizzard's silence on the matter. At first I assumed that they were scrambling to come up with a response to defuse the situation without angering China. I now think that they're waiting for it to blow over, but that seems like a mistake. Players are following through with their threats to cancel subscriptions to World of Warcraft, to uninstall Hearthstone, to fully delete their Blizzard and battle.net accounts. Other innovative strategies have emerged, such as EU customers to issue GDPR requests en masse.

I have a ton of respect for everyone who is taking these actions. It's incredibly hard to delete an account that represents many years and thousands of hours of investment in building a character, and in many cases turning away from the friends you've made on that service. Many Hearthstone players have spent hundreds of dollars or more in creating decks that will now be lost forever. There's a real sacrifice of money and time that players are making to express their protest, and I think that's every bit as impactful as an earlier generation's boycotts of businesses or marches in the street. I've been very heartened to learn that friends of mine have followed through on these promises, voting with their wallets in support of human rights. And I'm also extremely encouraged to see that current Blizzard employees are internally airing their own dissent, with organized walk-outs and direct action to express their dismay at their employer's cowardice and greed.

As for me, I find myself in the same position I so often find myself when, say, the New York Times does something idiotic: "I wish I had a subscription to cancel!" Blizzard is a bit of an oddity for me as it as a company that I have profoundly respected while never really buying any of their games. I've admired their "we'll ship it when it's ready" ethos, the opposite of Electronic Arts and other finance-driven companies that idolize release frequency over quality, their internal high bar for quality that leads them to outright cancel games that don't meet standards rather than release disappointments, and their social awareness and community responsiveness that led to Overwatch being a spectacularly diverse and inclusive game. But, my sole experience with playing Blizzard games consisted of the Shareware demo for Warcraft II, a couple of weeks playing a dwarven rogue in the original release of World of Warcraft (after being gifted the game by a coworker), and a few weeks and no money playing the initial release of Hearthstone. So, yeah, I've paid Blizzard a total of $0 over the 20 years I've played their games. I wish now that I had invested more in them back when they were a good company!

It'll be interesting to see where they go from here. It's very likely that Blizzard is just calculating that the 1+ billion potential customers in mainland China far outweigh their fanbase in the rest of the world, and they're willing to accept even widespread desertion to retain access to that market. But, they can't continue making games if their employees refuse to do it. Once again, workers ultimately have power over the means of production, and those internal debates we can't hear may be what ultimately determines what morals the company chooses to hold.

Edit: Heh, this post got results! This is why I shouldn't try and be topical on this blog, the news just moves Too Darn Fast these days. I'm still processing the latest update; apparently Blizzard has returned the seized prize money, and reduced the ban from one year to six months. My immediate reaction is to wonder why they couldn't have done this back on Tuesday. It's definitely encouraging to see that a people-driven protest movement can affect change in a multinational corporation. I also think there's still a ways to go.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

Spend Less on Candles

Why are economies in RPGs so bad?


It’s a question that’s nagged at me for a while, and was underlined recently with the abysmal money system in Mass Effect Andromeda. I wanted to collect my thoughts on this situation, which affects virtually every roleplaying game I’ve ever played, and engage in baseless speculation about whether they could be improved.

Expenses


What is money used for? Details vary, but most RPGs will include one or more of the following categories.

Gear


The most commonly used expense, and generally the most significant. This traditionally includes weapons and clothing/armor, but can cover any items that improve your character’s ability to perform common tasks. Gear is commonly tiered, with earlier and cheaper items later replaced by more expensive and powerful equipment.

Maintaining Gear


This is very common in MMORPGs, and in the past has been a staple of single-player RPGs. Items will degrade over time with use, and require periodic investment to bring back up to full quality. The price generally scales with quality, so there’s a natural escalation in outlays as the game continues. This tends to be a purely negative experience, a brute chore to perform, and players never enjoy it (probably why it has become less popular over time).

Character Skills


Some games will use money to directly advance your character’s abilities, sometimes as the sole means of advancement but more often as a supplement to an XP-based system.

Party Enhancement


This is rare, but some games will use money to recruit additional NPCs to your group. More often, you will be able (or required) to spend on your followers, making the same sort of purchases for them as for your main player character.

Content


While generally controlled through spending real-world money, sometimes you can spend in-game currency to gain access to new quests, a new area to explore, or other things that extend your playtime.

Quality of Life


These expenses will directly benefit you, the player, but may not have a direct impact on your character. This might include features like fast travel or revealing a map.

Fluff


This is a broad category for any outlay which does not have a mechanical impact on your game but that players may still desire for aesthetic or roleplaying purposes. This might include cosmetics, fancy clothing without stat bonuses, lodgings for your character, lore, donations to in-game charitable organizations, or upgrades to any of the above.

Alternatives


The core of an economic system tends to be straightforward: acquire larger amounts of a currency, and then spend that currency on the above expenses. However, as RPGs have grown more complex, they have introduced multiple ways to acquire those same results. Depending on the game, these might replace the use of currency, or be offered as an alternative.

Looting


Particularly common in Western RPGs. When you defeat an enemy, they might drop items in addition to currency. Thus, to acquire gear, you can simply fight enemies to take their stuff rather than saving up to purchase for yourself.

Rewards


Accomplishing a mission may result in anything of value, from gear to additional quests to fluff.

Crafting


This system is generally separate from the numismatic economy, although they can overlap. You acquire some combination of raw materials, plans, and skills, and then build items. This approach tends to be cheaper but more time-consuming than purchasing equivalent items.

Using items or skills


You might be able to steal items directly using a Pickpocket skill, or high Charisma to convince someone to give you a house, or use an armorer’s hammer to maintain your breastplate rather than paying someone to do it.

Alternative currencies


This is particularly common in MMOs: while the main currency might be, say, gold pieces, certain items will also or exclusively be made available through tokens, badges, or other special coinage. Recent single-player games have adopted a similar system with non-numismatic currencies, such as Influence in Inquisition or Viability Points in Andromeda.

Income


Before you can spend money, you need to earn it.

Defeating enemies


The most common way of acquiring money, especially in Japanese RPGs. Enemies will drop straight money (in place of or in addition to items). Notably, if a game includes both respawning enemies and cash loot drops, then players can acquire an infinite amount of money.

Selling items


The second-most-common way of acquiring money, and in many RPGs the most profitable. Sometimes these are simple trash/valuable items that have no use other than being sold. Frequently (as in Andromeda) they are pieces of gear.

 Rewards


Instead of getting a sword that you can't use or a crown you won't wear, sometimes a quest-giver will just hand over the gift of cash at the completion of a mission.

Rents


This is a rarer but interesting situation, where a property or investment will provide a stream of income over time. Sometimes this will be acquired from a quest, other times it's something the PC can purchase. Examples include some of the strongholds in BG2, certain cryo pods in Andromeda and certain repeatable war table missions in Inquisition.

Mo Problems


Here are some of the issues I keep seeing.

Nothing worth buying


This is fresh on my mind because of Andromeda, which has a varied system for acquiring money but almost nothing to spend it on. Items may be available for purchase, but they are either inferior in quality to items that can be acquired through other means, or can be easily picked up elsewhere.

Decision paralysis


Even if there is stuff to buy, and you have money to purchase it, you might hesitate to close the sale. In a game with item drops, you might be worried that you will acquire an equivalent or superior item later at no cost. For games with multiple item tiers, you may already have your eye on the next-better piece of equipment, and want to save your money for that piece instead.

Untuned money curves 


RPGs tend to grow in scope as the game continues. The player character becomes more powerful, as do the enemies she or he faces. Similarly, at the start of the game you generally earn small amounts of money and can buy cheap items; by the end of the game you will have much more money and can buy more expensive items. If the increase of inflow does not match the increase of outflow, the economy feels broken. On the shallow end, you'll earn money too quickly, running out of items worth buying. On the steep end, money arrives too slowly, forcing you to find items elsewhere or doing without. A surprising number of games get it wrong in both directions, with money far too tight in the early stages and useless at the end.

The Reason Why


Almost every game has a bad economy, but the causes seem to vary greatly. Here are a few!

Overlapping systems


Money becomes less valuable when there are alternatives available. Making the same assets, or the same types of assets, available through alternate systems such as crafting or looting discourages players from purchasing those assets. It also makes balancing more difficult, since designers will need to accommodate players who are saving and those who are spending.

Open-ended gameplay


As I harped at in my previous post on Andromeda, modern "open world" RPGs can have a huge range of potential playtimes. A player focused on the main plot might wrap it up within 20 hours, while someone pursuing a more completionist playthrough could spend 100. That latter player will have an extra 80 hours' worth of money, and presumably access to the same stores as the former player. Again, this makes balance extremely difficult: ideally, you want to give that super-player an incentive to keep earning, without forcing other players to grind out a victory.

Adherence to "realism"


This is a less common problem these days. Examples include limiting the functionality of shops (merchants' cash on hand), inaccessible shops (traveling far to offload loot or compare prices), requiring licenses for certain purchases, or other arbitrary obstacles that impede the smooth flow of commerce. These are sometimes intended to adjust balance issues, but since they can be circumvented they end up just generating annoyances.

Potential solutions


Is it possible to have an economy that doesn't stink? I think there are a few ways to accomplish it. There isn't a silver bullet, though: each option can drastically affect the game, and most only make sense given certain pre-requisites in the design.

Get rid of money


I increasingly think that this is what Andromeda should have done. The only items I purchased were minor tokens: cheap quest items to advance a plot or aesthetic upgrades for the Nomad. Both of these could easily have been handled through the crafting system. Getting rid of credits could also have allowed them to drop the annoying micromanagement of the loot cycle. There would still be plenty of incentive to fight and complete quests with the promise of more XP, AVP, and crafting resources.

I think that money is one of those things that game designers tend to automatically include, since every RPG has been doing it for decades. In a lot of cases, though, it doesn't add anything meaningful to the game. And, particularly since so many RPGs are built around epic save-the-universe storylines, it always feels ridiculous to be negotiating with merchants as you try to equip your team to save everyone's lives. There are plenty of other tools available to track player progression, and developers should consider money to be just another possibility, not a requirement.

Money sinks


In the absence of a tightly tuned money design, money sinks are an easy way to paper over underlying deficiencies and help currency feel at least somewhat useful. Typically, these are very expensive items that don't confer a strong advantage on the player but do provide a goal for super-achievers to pursue. This might include real estate (Final Fantasy VII) or cosmetics (Dragon Age Inquisition).

Improved game design


Carefully thinking through systems can reduce or eliminate some of the common problems with money. Big modern RPGs can take a "kitchen sink" approach to design, adding more and more systems, but resulting in a mess. This is a difficult area, but I think one thing that helps is to avoid "crossing the streams": having crafting, looting, and money each yield different non-overlapping rewards. This allows each system to be tuned in isolation, instead of having an imbalance in one area break economies in the other.

Streamlined games


By far, the best economy I've seen in recent years has been in Harebrained Schemes' Shadowrun games. Money is always useful, always interesting (multiple worthwhile things to buy with limited resources), and is engaging throughout the duration of the game. Part of this is due to smart economic decisions, but a huge aspect has to do with the fundamental design of the game: as a semi-linear RPG with no grinding or looting, it's far easier to balance than a sprawling open-world game like Andromeda or Fallout. The designer can know with a fair amount of certainty how much nuyen the player has acquired by a certain point in the game, and can adjust available items and prices based on that.

That won't be a solution for every game, but it may point the way for better balancing options. For example, open world games could choose to limit money payouts to the completion of plot-critical missions, while still allowing unlimited resource collection in free-roam and side-quests. That would immediately make money far more interesting, and simultaneously a lot easier to design around.

Lighten up


Finally, as a reminder to myself: it isn't that big a deal. I find broken economies frustrating, but they've never turned a good game into a bad one, only kept me from enjoying it to its fullest. In the grand scheme of things, there are for more important elements for game designers to get right than the exchange of virtual currency for virtual goods, and I should probably be grateful that they're focused on those other priorities.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

More Doors

This past weekend, I finished playing Shadow of Mordor, an action-adventure game set between the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. I've had a lot of conflicting thoughts while playing it, so I wanted to jot them all down here while it's still fresh in my mind.

I should probably list my biases up front. I am a huge Tolkien nerd; I credit The Hobbit with awakening my love of reading, and have devoured a lot of the lore around Middle-earth, including multiple passes through The Silmarillion and the Book of Lost Tales (although I have made only limited progress in History of Middle-earth). Unlike many of the noisier Tolkien fans, though, I've generally enjoyed the film adaptations (other than a few very specific complaints), and have a fairly broad approval towards people re-interpreting the Middle-earth mythos. Tolkien was originally motivated to create Middle-earth because he wanted England to have its own mythology, something on par with the great Norse/Germanic myths. We don't think of myths as the works of a particular individual: they are a part of the culture, and both shape and are shaped by it. I think it's a huge testament to Tolkien's skill and vast effort that his corpus can support and inspire such creativity in others, and even as classical myths will inspire new works in unexpected ways, I hope that Tolkien's mythology will serve as a source of material for new creators to tell their own stories.

All that said, I must admit that I have a knee-jerk reaction of skepticism whenever I hear about a video game adaptation based on a movie or other established property. There are lots of people like me out there who are willing to buy pretty much anything that carries Tolkien's imprimatur, and video game companies are rather notorious for releasing shoddy tie-ins, particularly when it comes to movies. I did let myself be hopeful about this, though, partly because the LotR movie-based video games have had a surprisingly strong track record: The Two Towers was a really fun hack-and-slash game for PS2 in the style of Golden Axe, and the Battle for Middle-earth games were perfectly good real-time strategy games. Both seemed to nicely pull off the unique challenge for a movie tie-in video game: they felt like they occurred in the same universe as the movie, without retreading the exact same scenes as the films. Rather, you felt as if you were watching (no: creating) scenes that could have been a part of the films, were they allowed to be even longer than they already were.

(Sidebar: Tolkien games are in a particularly strange state because there are two entirely separate licenses. There are "book license" games, which can draw upon the books published by Tolkien, but cannot use any likenesses or visual designs from the movies. These include Lord of the Rings Online and The Hobbit. The more successful games, which used to be published by Electronic Arts and more recently by Warner Bros, have a "movie license", which means that they can include visuals and music from or inspired by the Peter Jackson films. Furthermore, since the movies have the rights to the books, the games can also draw upon any content listed in the books, even those that didn't appear in the movies. Confused yet? It gets better! Games can't use any content from Tolkien's other works, such as The Silmarillion; however, since they technically have rights to the appendices, they can pull in a whole host of material unrelated to the main plot that sheds light on other regions in Middle-earth and the earlier Ages. Additionally, even though they can't use material that only appears in The Silmarillion, they aren't supposed to contradict any information that only exists on those books. Which is, um, difficult, since the books are self-contradictory. But now this sidebar is way too long. Back to the exposition!)

I was highly skeptical of Shadow of Mordor pretty much from the first moment I heard about it. The whole premise just sounded wrong. The protagonist was a human who was killed, and came back from death in a quest for revenge? Tolkien has a very well-defined system of mortality and immortality, and I just couldn't understand how Talion (the protagonist) fit into it. I resolved to studiously ignore all marketing for the game and check it out for myself.


The results were... strange. I can already tell that I'll have trouble organizing this write-up, so let me get the technical stuff out of the way first, before I return to the lore in spoilertown.

First of all, from a purely mechanical standpoint, this is probably the best-feeling action game that I've ever played. The action feels fluid and fun, and looks completely awesome, with your character pulling off a series of totally sweet moves: parrying, ducking, side-stepping, rolling, knocking, stabbing, slashing, slicing, all with your left and right mouse buttons. The gameplay is deep, too, and manages to teach you how to play it at a great pace, keeping the play challenging while never growing (too) frustrating. As your character levels up, you gradually accumulate a wider and wider array of possible moves and attacks. Each player will probably settle on their own personal favorites, all of which seem viable. Personally, I had an overwhelming preference for stealth mechanics, which involves a lot of sneaking; unlike other fantasy games with stealth, though, you aren't just limited to backstabs, but also ledge grabs, pounces, brutal assassinations, etc.


I haven't played any of the Assassin's Creed or Arkham games, which seem to be described as the closest relatives to the gameplay in Shadow or Mordor, but from what I've heard SoM borrows from and improves upon them. I believe it: fighting never felt like a grind, whether I was facing a lone orc or a horde of fifty enemies on the screen at once, it always felt fun and I always thought I looked good doing it.

The game seems really impressive graphically as well. I would have picked up SoM sooner or later anyways due to the Tolkien name, but part of the reason I got it at launch was to try out my new video card (Asus Strix GTX 970, if you're curious). The game looks fantastic and detailed, with wonderful lighting (both day and night) and huge open environments. The game starts out in the blasted wasteland with which we are familiar, which is stark and harsh, not entirely unlike the early desolation of Red Dead Redemption. Later on, you travel to the southern region of Mordor near the Sea of Nurnen, a more fertile area where Sauron grew food to feed his armies. Of course, I much preferred the prettier setting down south. Level design is fantastic throughout, particularly in the fortresses, heavily-guarded orc structures filled with interesting interconnected structures.


One of the most talked-about aspects of SoM has been the Nemesis System, a really cool idea that lives up to its potential. As you would imagine, there are an infinite supply of orc enemies. The orcs organize into a brutal hierarchy, with the more powerful ones ruling those below them with fear and violence. Over the course of the game, your actions will dynamically change the composition of this structure. Kill a Captain of Sauron's Army, and a promising Orc will take his place. Threaten a Warchief, and he will collect more followers to protect himself. If you die, Random Orc #138023 who killed you will grow famous among his peers, earning a promotion into the leadership, and will gather his own protectors. Orcs will remember if you ran away from a fight with them, or if they killed you, and will react appropriately. Each captain has its own strengths and weaknesses, which you can learn by interrogating other captains or suggestible peons, and then use those weaknesses to plan your next move.


Frankly, I found the nemesis system much more interesting and challenging than anything in the main plot. One thing I hadn't realized at first was that it's omni-present: you can go on a mission to kill a Captain, for example, but even if you're in the middle of another mission (say, to rescue some human slaves), a captain might be present, abruptly changing what was seemed like a straightforward quest into a deadly one. And there's nothing to stop two, or even three captains from getting involved! All of this is dynamic and unscripted, and is driven by some solid work in the background. If a particular Captain is your Nemesis, then he will actively hunt for you, and thus might show up at the worst time possible. You might have a plan to deal with a target - for example, maybe you've learned that they're terrified of Caragors, and so have ridden a Caragor into his camp; however, maybe your nemesis is enraged by Caragors, and so that same tactic will backfire on you spectacularly. All of this is solvable, but it requires a very pleasant combination of strategy, tactics, and reflexes.

Okay, let's start digging into some

MINI SPOILERS

I'll be honest: I kind of hated the story. I'm not even talking about the lore now, just the main plot arc. It's boring, and derivative, and fairly squicky. It feels a bit like someone was trying to cram as many bad gaming cliches into the shortest story possible. "Okay, so we have a moody white male in his 30s as a protagonist, right? Excellent! Hm, does he have a wife or girlfriend?" "Yes, but don't worry, she's completely passive and only exists so we can murder her five minutes into the game, thus providing Talion with his motivation for revenge." "Great! Let's make sure that Talion has to use dark and unsavory means in order to attain his supposedly-virtuous goals. Remember, if we don't teach our players that torture is the best way to obtain intelligence, then the terrorists have won. Let's see, what do you have in mind for NPCs?" "Oh, you're going to like this! We have two dudes, Hirgon and Torvin, who are tough fighters with a lot to teach Talion. And we also have three women: Eryn, Lithariel, and Marwen, all of whom are rescued by Talion." "I sure don't see anything wrong with that! All right, let's make this game!"


I'm just kind of baffled at how they came up with this. They went to all the bother of inventing a completely new story, which is not tied to any requirements from the LotR setting, and ended up with a total cookie-cutter plot that seems to be trying to be as unoriginal as possible. Is that maybe the point? For as much as I write about video games, I really don't know a whole lot about how the industry works. Maybe it's easier to get a project green-lit if you tell the executives that you're just going to tell the same story that's been told dozens of times before, and so it's less risky than telling a creative and imaginative new story? I dunno.

More than anything, it feels like a massive wasted opportunity. There are so many great, rich archetypes in Tolkien's stories that they could have drawn on for inspiration. If you must do a fighting game, why not make a character in the tradition of Eowyn or Haleth? Or, if you're willing to shake up the gameplay more, consider how Luthien or Tom Bombadil would have accomplished their quests. Or, as long as they're injecting foreign archetypes and themes into Tolkien's universe, why not do something completely out-there, like breaking the fourth wall or a revolutionary uprising of orcs? I think that's my biggest complaint: Talion is an anti-Tolkien archetype, and he's not even a good anti-Tolkien archetype. He makes the universe worse for existing in it.

Pretty much all of modern fantasy descends from Tolkien, and so much of his style has become commonplace that it's easy to lose sight of what's really radical about his books. For all the major battles that take place in Lord of the Rings, at its heart it is secretly a pacifist work. Sauron isn't slain by the hero, and Aragorn isn't able to defeat the host of Mordor. While valor is commendable, it doesn't win the war. Rather, in the end, it is mercy that wins the day. The "good guys" win because Bilbo spared Gollum's life when he could have killed him, and because Frodo took pity upon him even knowing he was untrustworthy. It's a story about persevering under adversity and treating others with kindness even when they don't deserve it.

Ultimately, I had the most success thinking of Talion as a minor villain. This isn't entirely unprecedented: Boromir famously was drawn to dark means in pursuit of his noble agenda, and the First Age is filled with elves doing terrible things in the name of vengeance. That's not the sort of character I want to play as, though, and I'm really disturbed by how the game seems to sum up the impact of your adventures.

MEGA SPOILERS

Eventually, after killing your way up the Orc ladder, you have the chance to fight Sauron himself. Yeah, I know. It was weird. You (/Celebrimbor) defeat him, and the game seems to say that it's because of this that Sauron wasn't able to take physical form during the events of LotR, being restricted instead to his flaming-eyeball persona. From a pure lore perspective, I'm actually more or less fine with that idea. It's similar to the trauma Sauron experienced after the fall of Numenor or after his defeat at Dagorlad, and it's been well-established that while his immortal spirit can't be destroyed, his form can be restricted. But even if the lore is fine, it rubs me absolutely the wrong way tonally. Within the Tolkien mythos, while good intentions aren't guaranteed to triumph, evil acts will lead to bad outcomes. In the short term they may seem effective, but the ends never justify the means.


Again, for a while as I was playing the game, I thought that this might make more sense if I just consider Talion as a villain. There's a particular section in the main plotline when you speak with Queen Marwen, and realize that she's been possessed by Saruman in the same way Theoden would later be. For a moment, I thought, "Oh, it all makes sense! Saruman is manipulating Talion to raise up an Orc army from the stock within Mordor, selecting the best and strongest; then Saruman will take over, creating the Uruk-hai. So, the stuff I'm doing in this game is directly contributing to Rohan's near-destruction in The Two Towers. That's neat/awful!" But it seems to drop this plot thread after Marwen's possession is overturned, and all of the visual and auditory evidence in the game seems to be reinforcing the idea that we're supposed to think of Talion as the hero, and his mission as being a good one. Ugh.

UGH!

There's also some nonsense at the end about Talion forging a new Ring of Power. Presumably this will be in some future DLC, where he'll convince Celebrimbor to make a new one, probably forged in the flames of Mount Doom. Surely this will end well.

MINI SPOILERS AGAIN (Lore ones this time)

On a positive note, the pure lore parts of the game are well-researched and well-done. You find various fragments as you explore Mordor, which provide glimpses into some nice deep-cuts topics from Middle-earth, including the fall of Numenor and the Blue Wizards and Elven tales. These don't really relate to anything else in the game, but I still appreciated them.


I was initially going to write a ton here, but more knowledgeable Tolkienites than me have already done the work, so if you want a comprehensive rundown of the major issues, check this out. Instead, here are a few more-or-less random thoughts on what's... not necessarily wrong so much as weird about the lore in this game.

When it comes to adaptations in general, I tend to be fine with omissions. This has been the general approach taken in the Lord of the Rings movies and the Game of Thrones HBO series, and I think it tends to work well: the creators find a few focal through-lines and cut extraneous material, leaving you with a work that, while not as rich as the original, still feels faithful to its spirit. A second approach is addition, such as that used in the Hobbit movies or anything related to Star Wars. This is more challenging, since it risks overwriting the original's essence, but can also be rewarding, if it expands upon the positive aspects of the primary text and grows its universe.  The most difficult, though, is modification, where the adaptation cherry-picks particular things it likes and rewrites them, creating a patchwork work that casts familiar characters in unfamiliar roles, old lines in new scenes, connecting or disconnecting timelines at will. This has been used extensively in the Walking Dead AMC show, and can feel very disorienting to people deeply familiar with the original, since any time they witness a change people tend to ask themselves, "Why is this different, and is it any better this way?"

Wow, that was an incredibly long lead-up to saying that I just plain don't get the point of inventing Caragors and Graugs for this game. Caragors are Wargs, and Graugs are Trolls. So why not just call them Wargs and Trolls, and why slightly (but not significantly) alter their models to look different? It isn't a rights issue; wargs and trolls are both definitely allowed by the "movie license". It doesn't seem to be a lore issue; caragors act just like wargs, and graugs act just like trolls (except, I suppose, for the whole sunlight thing). Was it too hard to render fur in real-time? Or what?


By contrast, while the ghuls are creatures who were only created for the game and not part of the books, I'm not quite as weirded out by them. It does seem a bit weird to have an entire new race of creatures instead of, I dunno, spiders or something, but in general additions like this feel fine to me as long as they don't actively contradict existing lore.


I alluded to this earlier, but one troubling aspect of the game is Talion's relationship with the orcs. You spend a lot of time fighting and killing them, which is more or less to be expected; orcs are by far the main enemy of Lord of the Rings, after all. Things get a little more disturbing later on when you gain the ability to essentially brainwash them, turning them into your slaves who will then fight and kill for you. From a gameplay perspective, this is really fun! You can raise an entire army of grunts, then charge off and kill a whole bunch of other grunts. But, it's another thing that makes it even harder for me to enjoy playing as Talion/Celebrimbor. If orcs are pure evil, then you shouldn't be using them as your tools. If orcs aren't pure evil, then it's even more wrong to mentally enslave them.


But really, the whole problem with orcs goes all the way back to Tolkien himself, who never seems to have been entirely happy with them. For narrative purposes, they served the role of an implacable enemy who must be opposed. But what, exactly, were they? In some stages of his writing, Tolkien wrote of them as corruptions of Elves that Morgoth had twisted awry. But this doesn't fit well into Tolkien's theology: if they were Elves, then presumably they had souls, and thus should be targets for redemption rather than extermination. Were orcs, then, created beings? That's also troubling, since only Eru should be able to create new species. The record in Tolkien is inconsistent, and I think it ultimately points back to a more fundamental question that we face in the real universe: where does evil come from? That's a tough question to answer on planet Earth, so it's unfair for us to expect a satisfying answer in fantasy literature or action/adventure video games.

(Secondary sidebar, even more tangential than the first: While playing this game, I was vividly reminded of a campaign I ran using Iron Crown Enterprise's Middle-earth Roleplaying System back in the 1990s. I set our campaign in the Fourth Age, roughly thirty years after the fall of Sauron. A lot was going on, but one particular plot thread closely involved the orcs. In my adapted Fourth Age chronology, a few Sindar elves elected to remain behind in Arda, and devoted themselves to trying to rehabilitate their erstwhile "cousins" the Orcs, hoping that, in the absence of the actively evil influence of Melkor and Sauron, they could be retrained and redeemed to a more elvish way of life. Out of this effort was born the Free Orc Movement, a society of reformed orcs seeking to form a civil society. They were opposed by the remnants of Sauron's army, led by the Mouth of Sauron, and were viewed with intense suspicion, hostility, or violence by humanfolk who had suffered in the War of the Ring. A major plot dealt with where the FOM would be able to settle, and how they could earn the trust of the Free Peoples. It was, um, really fun. Okay, I'm done.)

That does make me think, though, about how much wasted potential is shown here. I mean, Shadow of Mordor was a very expensive game, and it shows it very well: the graphics, voice work, CGI, environments, gameplay, are all top-notch. So why do we spend much of the game trudging around in a desert, controlling a character who manages to be both boring and annoying, telling a third-rate revenge story that squanders its lore-rich license and manages to pollute the best themes of its source material? There are so many incredibly rich opportunities to tell amazing, new stories that build upon Tolkien's legacy and expand the world! Why not do something with the blue wizards, who have always fascinated readers but were never fully developed by Tolkien? (Granted, they wouldn't be able to use the names Alatar and Pallando with the "movie license".) Or explore the other areas of Middle-earth outside of the well-documented northwest, like Far Harad or the East? You could literally draw the map, create new cultures, make whatever kind of game you wanted, and tie it as loosely or as strongly as you wanted to the events of LotR! Or tell a story about the virtuous Numenoreans attempting to flee the island after the disastrous approach to Aman, or set a battle game during the War of Power, or a Civilization-style game as the newly-awakened Elven tribes in the East,  or anything at all during the Fourth Age... in a universe that seems to be full of exciting possibilities, I'm baffled why we seem to have ended up with the same angsty revenge plot that could have been made with no license at all.

END SPOILERS

Then again... maybe the plot is the outcome, not the input. I've been very surprised to learn that, in the majority of video game studios, writers are often brought in after the game is created. They're essentially told, "Okay, here are the levels, here are the enemies, here are the characters. Write a story explaining why the player is doing what they're doing. Go." Add to that the fact that, since AAA game development is so hideously expensive, executives are extremely reluctant to fund games that don't appear to follow a proven formula for financial success. For better or worse, action/adventure games with dour white men doing nasty things to nastier men tend to make money, so those are the games that get approved, so those are the stories that people write. And I suppose that I've just reinforced that cycle by spending $60 to buy this game. Ugh!

But, getting back to the contradictory nature of my feelings, the number of minutes I had fun while playing the game vastly outnumbered the number of minutes I hated thinking about the plot. As has become increasingly common for me, I took a whole bunch o' screenshots and put them online. Beware, for this album is filled with spoilers!

I've noticed that far too many of my blog posts end with a statement along the lines of "If you are a Dragon Age fan, you should read this book!" or "If you enjoyed other Telltale Games, you'll really like The Wolf Among Us!" For Shadow of Mordor, my feelings are actually kind of the opposite. If you aren't a huge Tolkien fan, and aren't immersed in his stories or the lore of Middle-earth, odds are excellent that you will enjoy this game. It's fast, the gameplay is fun, it has terrific mechanics and a fluid style and all sorts of nifty graphics. But there's probably an inverse relationship between how invested you are in Tolkien's mythos and how much pleasure you'll get from this game. I'm not even talking about the technical details like when Gondor stopped patrolling Mordor or whether spirits can be recalled from Mandos. There's a sick idea at the core of SoM, an idea that evil can be overcome with evil, which is antithetical to what I love about Tolkien's works. That's not to say that such stories shouldn't be told! Antiheroes can be interesting, and there's lots of great art that comes out of dark thoughts like this. But I don't understand why they would need to set such a rotten story in one of the most beautiful, vibrant settings ever created.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Burned

Well, after a long period of nervous, agitated fuming, the other shoe has dropped: Rockstar has apologized, but said that they won't be restoring any of the (many!) characters who were deleted from Grand Theft Auto Online thanks to their buggy game and servers. To their credit, they're acting contrite, and instead of doing the targeted work that would be required to make the victims whole, they are offering the broad conciliatory gesture of offering a substantial credit of $500,000 in-game dollars to everyone who plays the game this month.


I appreciate the effort, but still feel pretty mad, so I figured, hey, why not write a rambling blog post about it?

As noted in my first post about the online experience, GTA Online follows a dual-track system similar to that found in most free-to-play RPGs. There are essentially two currencies, one based on cash, the other based on experience. Cash can be earned through in-game play, or purchased with real-world money. Experience (RP) can only be earned through in-game play. So, if someone started playing GTA Online and was willing to spend a lot of real-world money, they could quickly buy the best apartment and nicest cars. However, they wouldn't be able to purchase high-level weapons, armor, clothing, tattoos, etc., until they had played the game for a while and leveled up.

The in-game financial compensation Rockstar is offering is quite large compared to the loss I suffered. I had earned a total of GTA$130,000 during the time I played, of which I lost all but GTA$8,000. So, they'll essentially quadruple my money, which is nice. Without any specific effort on my part, I'll be able to pick an apartment of my choice, and a nice car as well, while having plenty of loose change for mission supplies.

However, the problem remains of my lost character. I'm not a power-leveler, and had been enjoying undertaking a variety of missions, as well as exploring the online world, reaching level 13 shortly before it all ended. If I set my mind to it (and had the opportunity), I could probably regain that spot in a solid weekend of playing... but that would feel like work, not like fun.

Now, here's where it starts to get interesting. Rockstar will be offering currency packs that allow people to directly buy GTA$. Given their current exchange rates, the GTA$500k they are offering players is worth US$10. Depending on how they account for it, that's actually a very substantial real-world offering by Rockstar. I haven't heard any specific figures yet on how many players have gone online, but GTA V itself has sold north of 30 million copies; if just one-third of those have gone online, this payout is theoretically worth US$100 million. (In practice, of course, only a small fraction of players will ever spend money on in-game currency, so their actual loss is certainly much smaller.)

But, there's another factor to account for: how much time I spent playing my character before they were killed. If I were to apply my consulting rate to the hours spent building my character, the value of my time would be around US$3000. A far cry from US$10! And obviously not one that Rockstar would ever pay (nor would I want them to).

Once you start looking at this in dollar terms, though, it gets even weirder. If my time is so valuable, then why don't I just buy in-game currency myself? Well... because it isn't fun, right? It's playing the game that's fun, not having the things you can buy with money. I don't want to shortcut the game to get the rewards; the rewards are meaningless without the game.

What would it take for Rockstar to make me whole? My doomed wish was a return of my character: same appearance, same stats, same equipment, same possessions. Since that wasn't in the cards, though, could they have addressed it with a combination of the cash and the RP I had earned?

I've thought about that question far too much, and my eventual answer is "No." The reasons why mostly come down to the nature of the game. If a similar character wipe had happened on Mass Effect 3 Multiplayer, then a combination of XP and Credits would have satisfied me. In that game, your character is defined by your class and your loadout, both of which are unlocked by purchaseable packs. There is a slight amount of customization available, mostly restricted to the colors you assign to a character, but it would take only a matter of minutes to rebuild a lost character, and it would feel like they're the same as the one you lost.

However, that's not the case in RPGs, and it's not the case in GTA Online either. Even if I try to recreate my lost character, they won't be the same. I'll never get them back; they're gone forever. And that sense of loss stings deeply. Like almost all humans, I'm loss-averse: the pain I get from losing something is greater than the pleasure I felt in having it. I feel much worse after having built up and then lost a character than I would have if I had never started playing in the first place.

It's not too unusual for me to get irritated when playing a game: if a fight is particularly difficult, or a puzzle seems too obtuse, or if a bug keeps crashing the game. It's much rarer for me to actually get angry, and in every case I can think of, that anger is the result of a loss of progress. GTA Online was rather painful, but even that paled in comparison to the robbing of my character in Dragon Age Origins (all the worse because, rather than having a character in the cloud who was abandoned by said cloud, that was a supposedly single-player character who was somehow hunted down and violated by the cloud). I think that this may be a specialized version of the sensation of "metaphor shear" that Neal Stephenson writes about in his excellent nonfiction book "In the Beginning... Was the Command Line." We're asked to buy in to the idea that we're creating characters, that our decisions matter, that the time and care we invest in growing them will have lasting benefits. Then one day, we blink and they're gone. We realize that these weren't the people we held in our minds after all: they were strings of ones and zeroes on a hard drive somewhere, and far more fragile and easily destroyed than a creature of flesh and blood could be.

So, why do I get so bent out of shape when this happens? Isn't it silly to get upset when something goes wrong in a game? The more I think about this, the more I think that the source of my displeasure is precisely the fact that it's "just" a game. Consider other sorts of losses. If I were participating in a sports tournament, and was prevented from competing in the championship, I'd certainly be upset; but I'd still have the benefit of all the physical conditioning that I'd built up over a season of training and competition, and thus be noticeably "better" than I was before. If I'd worked really hard on an art project or a novel, only to see it destroyed, I would feel devastated; but I'd have stretched my creativity along the way, and even though I could never regain the work that was lost, I'd have built valuable experience that would probably help make my next project even better. With a game, though, I don't have the justification of building character, or gaining valuable life skills. The entire purpose of the game is having fun, so when that's taken away, there's no ancillary consolation to cling to.

I don't know if it's exactly cognitive dissonance, but I think there's an unpleasant sensation when you're forced to confront the fact that what had seemed like a productive, fun activity was never productive and is no longer fun. We might be wired to go overboard in reacting against that feeling: if I feel this bad, it must be because Rockstar is evil, because they're trying to irritate people, etc., etc. Which obviously isn't true, but blaming a target might be easier than confronting one's own dawning awareness of the ephemeral quality of their pasttime.

Wow, that got real dark real fast! Sorry about that.

Anyways. Despite all the above, I still think GTA Online is a lot of fun when it's actually working and not chopping off your legs from under you. It's been several days since the latest patch came out, and player complaints have dropped off drastically, so it looks like they've finally fixed the most horrendous bugs. Things that used to irritate me, like how your character can suddenly turn bald if you start a mission with a mask equipped, now seem like quaint and pleasant quirks from a captor who is no longer torturing me.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Silicon Valley Musings

You know how, when you read an article on a topic you know well, you get excited at first, and then get progressively more frustrated at the things it gets wrong or fails to address? Well, that's how I felt when reading an article in the current New Yorker magazine titled "Can Silicon Valley Embrace Politics?" (Weirdly enough, even though it's a current article, it's already gone behind a paywall. Usually the New Yorker is good about keeping them up for two weeks after an issue comes out. I don't know if this is an exception for this article, or a new policy. Anyways, you'll need to be a subscriber to read the whole thing, but you'll get the gist from the intro at the link.)

First of all, I need to make the standard disclaimers: I can only write about my own personal experience, which I'll cheerful admit may not be representative of the industry as a whole. I've worked in tech for over a decade (wow!) and in the Bay Area since 2005. I've worked from the south end (Los Gatos) to the north (San Francisco), but have exclusively worked for smaller companies with anywhere from 3 to 50 employees. I don't have first-hand experience of working for the titans like Apple, Google, or Facebook, which George Packer focuses on in his article. I do have friends at those companies, and have visited their campuses, so I have some familiarity even if I don't have much direct knowledge.

And actually, that's a great place for me to start. Packer writes that "Though tech companies promote an open and connected world, they are extremely secretive, preventing outsiders from learning the most basic facts about their internal workings." Well... I don't think that's true. Just last week, I and about two hundred other random engineers dropped by Twitter's headquarters for a series of lightning tech talks. It was held in their commons, and we could see the literal blueprints on the walls showing the next several months of construction on their new mid-Market home. The Twitter engineers talked about their testing process, the risk/reward evaluation they have to make for supporting new features, how they decide whether to open-source something like their AFNetworking modifications for iOS. And this was hardly an isolated case. I've wandered on Google's campus, walked through eBay's parking lots, sat in on Mobile Monday events hosted at dozens of the Valley's largest and smallest companies. Granted, I have the advantage of actually living here, but companies like Google are actually surprisingly open about many of their activities, such as writing blog posts detailing how they operate their data centers.

So, yeah, I was pretty surprised to read Packer describe them as "secretive." I think that Silicon Valley tech companies are far more open and collaborative than their counterparts elsewhere in the country, and would go so far as to say that it's probably the single most important factor in explaining the Valley's global dominance. The atmosphere out here is incredibly exciting and collegial: workers at various companies are constantly meeting one another socially, chatting with each other over drinks or coffee, coming up with new ideas tangentially related to their day jobs. That's what gives the Valley its energy and dynamism: the constant cross-pollination between companies as people collaborate, leave their old companies to start new ones, hire new people, and then those new hires start the cycle again.

Granted, Google isn't going to divulge details on its search algorithms (though it gives more information than you would think), and Facebook won't reveal an upcoming acquisition, but the industry out here is far more open and less secretive than what you'll find in New York City, the Massachusetts Route 128 corridor, the Research Triangle, or any of the other tech hubs in the country (or, I think, the world). (In Overland Park near Kansas City, Sprint's headquarters resemble a fortress, complete with walls and guard towers. The first job I had in that city, with a small company of fewer than 50 people, required a magnetized keycard to enter our office. In contrast, most Silicon Valley headquarters are laid out like college campuses, and it's easy to visit a friend during the day.) The tech industry as a whole doesn't strike me as especially secretive... granted, they're more secretive than the entertainment industry or academia, but much less so than defense contractors or banking.

I should backtrack here and admit that, for the most part, I agree with Packer's overall thesis: that the Valley is insufficiently politically engaged, and that the local tech boom has created a highly stratified society of the super-rich and the very poor. In both cases, though, I think the piece suffers by failing to make comparisons to other locales or industries that would help show just how far behind the Valley is. In the former case, he paints a picture of tech workers as being isolated and apolitical. He quotes one person as saying that people out here "Don't read The Economist." Well... yeah, we do. And The Atlantic, and the New Yorker, and McSweeney's. Again, I can only speak to my personal experience, but the people I've met here (both in the tech industry and outside of it) are smart and politically aware. I'll grant that there is a large amount of cynicism, that "politicians can't get good things done," but that's hardly unique to Silicon Valley. Compared to the communities I've been part of in Minnesota, Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City, I'd say that the Bay Area tech community is more politically engaged. It's certainly possible that we're less politically active than the tech community in New York City or Washington, D. C. Again, I would have appreciated some point of comparison in the article.

Having lived most of my life in the Midwest, I have noticed a significant difference in the political atmosphere out here, but it's a difference in kind and not degree. Compared to much of the country, there's a remarkably high level of consensus on many issues that otherwise divide communities. Pretty much everyone out here supports same-sex marriage, even the few Republicans I know. There's broad support for progressive tax policy, even though this area benefited hugely from George W. Bush-style tax cuts. There's no local disbelief in global warming. All local politicians are pro-choice. And so, there just aren't very high local stakes for these kinds of issues. If someone is very committed to a cause, they're likely to support a national candidate, or someone in a more competitive state (I've gotten in the habit of backing some Minnesotan candidates and causes), but there isn't much outlet for those emotional political issues here.

When there are issues that affect people locally, of course, they get very engaged. Everyone I know (in tech or out) has an opinion on San Francisco's sit/lie ordinance. (For the record, my circle is roughly 75% in favor, 25% opposed.) There's regular tension between anti-growth and smart-growth forces. (Should we build more high-rise developments to support dense urban living?) Everyone cares about high-speed rail. (Almost every tech worker I know supports it; non-tech people are roughly evenly split.)

I can't quite tell if Packer is arguing that the rank-and-file is politically disengaged, or that the big companies themselves aren't politically active, or both. I don't see the evidence of individual disengagement... tech people here write checks, and quit their jobs to join the Obama campaign, and drive to Sacramento to support marriage equality. I suppose a stronger case could be made for the big companies' not being involved in politics, but again, I have to wonder who Packer is comparing them to. The oil companies? Koch Industries? Unilever? I certainly agree that Silicon Valley could do more than it does, but so could everyone. I do wonder what other industries might be good to emulate... the entertainment industry obviously is very engaged in politics, but I feel like there must be some other ones that may also be fairly positively engaged, like retail and housing. I would have loved to see some numbers around the portion of Silicon Valley's wealth that goes to charity and politics, compared with numbers from other industries.

Speaking of wealth, the aspect of Packer's article that I was most on board with was the bifurcated local economy. San Francisco is one of the best places in the world to live if you're young and have money: you can eat amazing fourteen-dollar sandwiches from Tartine Bakery, and live in a ten-million-dollar condo with 1500 square feet and views of the Golden Gate and Bay Bridges, and use TaskRabbit to hire someone to pick up a pair of twenty-sided dice in time for tonight's Dungeons & Dragons game. It's also one of the less painful places to live if you're destitute: the weather is temperate year-round, the city provides a lot of services, and many local groups advocate for the homeless. For people in the middle, though, the city can seem impossible. Rent prices are insane and housing prices even worse. The cost of living is nearly the highest in the country, and non-tech jobs just don't pay enough to cover it. The trend is continuing, too. San Francisco is becoming even more attractive for young tech workers, thanks to relatively new additions like the Valley shuttle buses, so the median income keeps creeping up, and lower incomes keep getting squeezed out.

Ever since moving out here, I've actively promulgated a fantasy: I want everyone who I like to move out here, so they can enjoy the beautiful weather, the awesome culture, and, more importantly, I won't need to fly east to visit them. I've since come to realize that this is an even more selfish fantasy than I had first thought. Visiting the Bay Area can be a dream. Living here can be a hardship, unless you're fortunate enough to land a good job.

So, what should we do about this? It's really the same old problem of gentrification, just written even larger with more money. San Francisco already does a lot with tools like rent control, without which I'm sure there would be even fewer lower-middle-class families living in the city. And like any example of gentrification, it can be really hard to untangle the positive benefits of increasing wealth with the negative impacts on the neighborhood's existing diversity and character.

At one point in the article, Packer describes a coffee meeting he had in Four Barrel, sipping single-origin coffee while surrounded by the casually hip. I immediately perked up at that: my office is just two doors away from Four Barrel, and I think it's a fascinating focal point for what's going on in the Mission, both good and bad. Packer does a great job at briefly and accurately conveying the atmosphere of the Valencia Street corridor: young tech workers with Apple devices, shopping at boutique stores and gourmet restaurants. While he was waiting in line for half an hour to get a coffee, Packer may have glanced at the buildings across the street from Four Barrel. He doesn't write about them, and there's no particular reason why he would have: they look like the kind of new mid-rise condo development that would house these young elites. He may have been surprised to learn that this is actually a public housing development: these nice-looking, well-kept buildings on one of the hottest blocks in the city are reserved for the use of the city's poorest and least enfranchised residents.

And... I'm not sure what to do with that fascinating nugget. The reason San Francisco has so much money to spend on its virtuous social programs is because so many wealthy people live here and help fund their budget. This block of Valencia in particular has benefited in very substantial ways from the changing demographics: I've chatted with people who have lived here for decades, and remember when this was considered a bad part of town. But then places like Four Barrel moved in, and trendy spenders started hanging out, and then more shops started opening up to cater to those people, and the city rebuilt the old projects, and it's now a fun, comfortable, safe space to wander. And yet, Packer is definitely right when he writes about how the Latino population in the neighborhood is shrinking, and families who have lived here for a long time are increasingly finding it hard to find affordable rent, or even shops that provide useful services. Again, it's the same old story of gentrification, and I wish I knew how to "solve" it such that everyone could get what they want and nobody has to leave.

While on the subject of Latinos, Packer quotes Mitch Kapor (of Lotus Notes) saying that "asking questions about the lack of racial and gender diversity in tech companies leaves people in Silicon Valley intensely uncomfortable." I think he's definitely right about the lack of racial diversity: it's absolutely shameful how few African-Americans and Latinos are employed in high-tech positions. It's something we need to do much better on. However, I have (again, in my own limited personal experience) noticed a huge improvement in the last few years on addressing gender diversity. It's definitely a problem: at my previous company, we had hired over twenty (!!) men before hiring our first woman. Companies now openly talk about combating the "Dave ratio" (the ratio of men named "Dave" to women in a company; a 1:1 or worse ratio is shockingly common) and are explicitly describing their need to improve representation. Larger companies are addressing every stage of the pipeline: getting more school-age girls interested in science and math, encouraging college women to pursue STEM careers, setting up internship programs specifically for female programmers, and proactively recruiting woman developers. Smaller companies like my own make greater efforts to seek out female developers, and even use terms like "affirmative action" that would have been anathema a few years ago. While there is still a very long way to go in improving the situation, it feels great to see more traction now that companies are discussing it. I was delighted when my own sister enrolled in the fantastic Hackbright program, and landed a great programming job within a few weeks of graduation.

But, the point still stands that we have a long way to go to even begin to approach parity, and we need to start taking similar initiatives to improve racial and cultural diversity. The tech industry in general, and Silicon Valley in particular, lags far behind most other American industries on both counts.

Um. I think that's all I had to say. I worry a little that I'm just a sensitive San Franciscan getting defensive when a writer from New York criticizes my town and my career, but I do have to admit that he's right about at least a few things. My biggest complaint is that he doesn't offer much perspective in how San Francisco compares to other cities in America, or how the tech industry compares to other industries; some objective figures on our miserliness or apathy would have impressed me much more than scattered anecdotes and interviews. Then again, I am a privileged tech guy, so that's exactly what you would expect me to say.