I spent a lot of time last month playing Tiny Death Star, only to delete it and feel empty about it once I was done. Before that, it was Cookie Clicker, and before that, Jetpack Joyride. The amount of time I spent playing all three of these games is frankly a bit embarrassing, and that's coming from someone who proudly states they've spent over 100 hours playing The Binding of Isaac. There's a shame that accompanies any statement I make about these games that is absent when talking about other, lengthier games. For me, this shame comes from the feeling of being manipulated. What begins as a nice time waster often grows into something that gives me a reason to constantly check my phone or open a new tab in my web browser. It becomes something I no longer enjoy, yet I can't stop playing.
Most of these games have something interesting to offer at the start, whether it's solid gameplay (Jetpack Joyride) or even an entertaining story (the grandmatriarchs in Cookie Clicker). However, they do wear thin over time, and that's because they are designed around compulsive player interaction rather than something that is entertaining or challenging. Extra Credits describes this scenario excellently in their video titled "The Skinner Box".
"Engagement and compulsion are different things. Just because you can make an experience compelling, doesn't make it a good game."
I watched this video months ago in an attempt to make a post out of my Cookie Clicker addiction, but couldn't really put my finger on why I hated this design choice so much. Then, I picked up the free-to-play game Tiny Death Star weeks later and realized how these elements can turn a lazy design choice into a manipulative way to make money. Looking back on it, it was hard to describe Tiny Death Star as a game. It was more like a program that featured Star Wars sprite art and occasionally involved player interaction to stock store shelves or move an elevator. Every one of these actions was tedious, and often had a timer that could only be shortened by in-game currency that was earned at a snail's pace. The only way around this was money, and after my enjoyment weaned I realized that the sprites were all this game had going for it.
I've recently been listening to game design talks while playing games, and Jonathan Blow's talk on games and the human condition hit a point that I'd been feeling all along. That is, the feeling of being manipulated by a game. The feeling of not understanding why you're playing, or why you're compelled to start it up every hour or so just to collect coins. In the context of games like Farmville, Blow describes why this design is problematic: "Game designers have maybe crossed some ethical line where they're explicitly designing games for you to be worrying, explicitly designing them so that they decrease the quality of your life when you're not playing them." This describes my experience with Tiny Death Star perfectly. I worried I wasn't making as many coins as I could have when I forgot to play on certain days, and when I did play, it was as fast as possible, just to get the obligation out of the way. It was no longer fun, it was just another thing I did in my everyday routine. When I realized it was actually worsening my quality of life, I finally decided to just delete it.
As with any post about free to play (though this post is not strictly about free to play), I do feel the need to emphasize that not all of these games are bad. Cookie Clicker is especially enjoyable to play in the beginning, features no microtransactions, and is made by a pretty cool dude. However, I do want to point out that some games are really hurt by the decision to add microtransactions or other artificial game lengtheners to the mix. Jetpack Joyride is probably the best example of this. At its core it is a runner game, with goals that are constantly changing, and upgrades to buy to mix up the way you play the game. With microtransactions thrown in though, this simple, fun idea turns into something that takes hours longer than it should. Coins are worth less so that the player has an incentive to use real money to buy them and progress quicker. This hurts the game overall, because now you have a game that either costs more money than it should, or takes longer than it should. I would gladly pay money for a version of that game that made in game currency four times as effective when buying in game items. What we get, however, is a game that compels a player to play something way past the point it is fun, and makes each microtransaction an act of desperation rather than a normal purchase.
My takeaway from this is that regardless of microtransactions or finding ways to be addicting, games should be enjoyable. It's as simple as that. Whether it's enjoyable for you to get angry during a game of Call of Duty, laugh at the narrator in The Stanley Parable, or marvel at something you created in Minecraft is for you to choose. It's up to designers to make less manipulative games, and up to us to play better ones.
