In 1989, political scientist Francis Fukuyama wrote an essay asking if we’ve reached The End of History? Often mischaracterized, the essay argues democracy and free markets represent the last evolution of political-economic systems. Fukuyama writes:
What we may be witnessing is not just the end of the Cold War or the passing of a particular period of post-war history; that is the end point of mankind’s ideological evolution and the universalization of Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government.
Blockchain may well represent game monetization’s End of History.
Take a stroll through a blockchain game website – they are all lovely; remember that’s their UA funnel! – and a standard set of phrases appear: “ownership,” “true ownership,” “truly owning.”
Is everyone hiring the same marketing brand guy?
But blockchain warps the traditional meaning of ownership into a ship of Theseus problem; each blockchain-based game can define ownership in its context. Suddenly, ownership becomes a design space in itself, making it all that much more crucial to dissect and analyze.
Sorry readers, I caught the blockchain bug. When 30-person firms get $4.5B valuations, it’s time to pay attention, regardless of one’s priors. Everyone seems to have a Blockchain hot-take, but I’ve found most to fall short of ruthlessly integrating the implications and design space of the technology. Blockchain players (who are also, by definition, investors) insist, at every turn, that it’s so obvious blockchain gaming is the future. Advocates cite specific benefits – true ownership, play-to-earn, “aligning incentives between players and developers,” and decentralization. A smaller crowd expresses skepticism about what blockchain solves for gamers, and if blockchain has the implications, advocates think it does. This mounts a normative and positive element to discussions of blockchain. On cue, Benedict Evans offered a measured assessment of the situation:
A good deal of odd and folk-lore design priors float around gaming; my two favorites are free hard currency and time-limited cosmetics predicated on FOMO or fear of missing out. The FOMO model suggests developers ought to stuff their game with time-limited content, once the timer is expired the content is gone forever (or for a long time – a year or more). I’ve argued paper-thin theory holds up free hard currency, but small revenue stakes drape it as a marginal issue, whereas the FOMO model has a far more significant impact on the bottom line. High-stakes decisions demand more substantial evidence than low-stakes decisions, and we don’t yet have one for the FOMO model beyond “Fortnite does it.” Is there a persuasive and substantial case for FOMO?
Battle Royale and Roguelike are remaking game progression before our eyes. Popularized in earnest during the rise (and eventual pruning) of the MOBA genre, in-round progression mandates players accrue vertical power in the context of a single round.
MOBA sessions start with players farming in-round currency to spend on items that persist until the round or particular game is over. In addition to in-round currency, players earn XP that levels up characters for the round duration. Many teams secure victory by out-farming currency and XP relative to the opposing team; eSports commentators are fond of displaying progression charts during casts. A single XP chart becomes the scoreboard of the game and a big predictor of victory.
In-round progression completely alters the salary profile game designers pay players. If we think of rewarding player action with progression as a wage rate, in-round progression radically alters the incentives. Instead of optimizing for the long-run, in-round progression presents a 30-60min time horizon to players.
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