The first time I had to file taxes, I was faced with what I thought would be a pretty straight-forward question. What industry did I work in? Well, one of the options in the drop-down TurboTax gave me was 'Gaming'. Yep, I thought. I work as a certification tester for Nintendo of America, that's my industry. I did a little more digging, however, before realizing that they were referring to what was commonly known of as the Gaming Industry in the years far before the Nintendo Entertainment System hit shelves: casinos and gambling.
In the years since, I've come to understand the blanket term for my industry would be the Entertainment Industry. We collaboratively work towards creating something that is, ultimately, entertaining. Because if gaming is gambling, then entertainment is storytelling. So why do we conflate the two?
I read John Riccitiello's interview talking about the recent and bizarre merger between Unity and malware distributor ironSource and was struck by the language used. Compulsion loop. Attrition rate. These are all terms I've heard before, especially working on a AAA MMO (in my case, Guild Wars 2). Monetization, when you're creating an essentially Forever Game (live game, service game, etc.), is the lifeblood of the game. But it also is what fuels what Riccitiello's talking about here: mobile game development. That's what Unity's all about lately, because that's where the money is. It's also something you can use to define developing a better slot machine. But we're digging into some very specific holes in conflating these worlds.
Regardless of the specific challenges and budgets required in making games, corporation-backed companies are in love with the idea of infinite money generators. And what better vehicle to create these things than a compelling video game? We loop through, we gain prizes, to enable us to loop through, to gain prizes. It's the same drive that keeps addicts returning to a casino. It's the odds stacking in their favor until they're ready to dive into the prize bucket and get a cement floor instead. Developers are entering into a world they think they know but are seeing that cement floor. Gacha games hit their marks on content-centric fandoms, create designs that spawn art, fiction, devotion. They draw in new crowds to insert money into the machine and hope that the concept of ownership stays compelling and fresh.
Every so often I have to force myself to take a step back and wonder at what my industry is. What am I creating content for? Where is my music going? It's something that becomes increasingly important because ultimately we've become lost in a blurring of definition. What Gaming Industry are we a part of?
I look at the state of arcades. Where once you could walk into a dark room full of machines willing to absorb your quarters for an experience and a score. There wasn't really much to gain except bragging rights, a leaderboard, fun. Entertainment. That's still there, to some degree. But the overgrowth of reward, earning, ownership, is a greater force today. Play a carnival game, get tickets. Exchange tickets for prizes. Gamble your skill. Get tangible rewards. Get something in exchange for your perception of skill, or luck.
Tech heads want to believe in ownership being the future of games. If you play, you earn. If you earn, you own. If you own, you are superior. The experience doesn't matter. The entertainment doesn't matter. Owning matters. Property matters. Who is doing the playing? Who is being entertained? Doesn't matter. Own things. Take a risk. Get a payout.
What industry are we a part of?
I like telling stories. I think a lot about how I had the choice to pursue writing, or animation, or some form of storytelling other than video games. Would I have been happier there? Are we better off telling our stories in a static medium? Maybe. With the direction corporations want to take this industry, maybe static is the better direction. But I do still think games are worth pursuing. I think there's experiences left to engage in that are only possible because of interaction. Is it a naive pursuit? We'll see, I guess.
