On the Monetary Problems Inherent to MMORPGs and a Potential Solution

by Gabriel Putnam

Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games (MMORPGs) are sweeping the US and in fact, most of the world. They’re the newest fad of the industry and the prize which many fledgling companies have pinned their hopes for success upon. The temptation to most of us is obvious, a persistent game whose players keep forking over their cash, years after its purchase. To developers and investors of any size, this looks like a godsend on the surface. It represents income of 2-3 times greater magnitude than a single player venture and with the potential for even greater long-term additions to the bottom line. However, the other shoe drops when the underlying problems of successful multiplayer game creation are considered. Instead of normal pre-release spending, most developers are instead subjected to both increased short term spending during pre-release, as well as a long-term, steady draw on resources which can severely decrease their previously optimistic outlooks. In addition, if any of the formulaic factors which go into the design aren’t in place on release then they may instead suffer horrible PR, sagging initial sales, and customers lost to the host of other realms available. The purpose of this writing will be to examine two of the most common problems in design and planning, which have plagued MMORPGs in their current evolution, and to then propose a concept which might alleviate some of the strains.

Of all that can be skimped on to shave costs in a multiplayer game’s production, there is one factor which should never be tampered with. That factor, which represents the holy grail of player retention, is customer service. From the early days of Ultima Online, to the notoriously bad service of Everquest’s team, customer service has always been a problem with MMORPGs. Common, single-player games incur little of this problem. Most of the time, the extent of service required for an offline game will be involved with software and hardware bugs which were not caught during the initial testing of the product and are usually limited in scope. For multiplayer games, these types of problems are further accentuated by the sheer complexity of the product. Instead of being restricted to one set of tightly controlled design guidelines, in the case of a console, or the somewhat broader platform of an independent PC, most of which are designed for a particular level of system requirements, multiplayer game designers instead have to deal with a plethora of available setups and configurations, all of which must then work together over distances spanning the Earth. This means that by the sheer nature of their construction they will incur a higher percentage of mishaps among players and hence a greater quantity of service calls.

To further compound the problems of multiplayer gaming, the designers of such a game not only have to deal with the game, but directly with the players themselves. In an offline scenario, the owners of the game have purchased the physical product simply for the enjoyment of playing through it. In contrast, owners of a multiplayer product have instead purchased the rights to a character, or characters, which are then free to operate on the game’s servers. Since there is no story with which to mold them and abstract the product, players naturally have a vested interest in their avatar’s well being as it is the only tangible representation of their effort. This means that in addition to well mannered and understandable software technicians, a truly dedicated company will also have to employ a sufficient body of counselors/negotiators who can calmly explain the nature of the game to distraught players and quickly cut to the heart of problems. Commonly, however, the game companies instead hire the equivalent of survey workers to handle these tasks. This is a natural response as they demand little in the way of benefits, accept minimal pay, and are readily available. In addition, to further cut costs, it is not uncommon for an insufficient number of workers to be hired which can result in 20 minute waits for players and the general feelings of neglect or anger which follow. Quite simply, for a MMORPG to be successful this type of service cannot last. In the short term of red budgets and downturns, a slash in customer support may help to push a prospectus back into the black. In reality though, it simply marks an early grave for the product, as dissatisfied customers notice that there is little reaction to their concerns and move on to more responsive competitors. There is no hard and fast solution to this problem, simply a realization that the long term results of excellent service will far outweigh the short term gains of its shoddy alternative.

A second constraint also exists on the design of massive multiplayer games due to their particular methods of play and interaction. This constraint is the need for vastly increased levels of content and opportunities within the game compared to a single player experience. Within a single player game, each player has purchased access to a similar set of goals and experiences which they will follow in their due course. However, a multiplayer environment turns this concept on its head, as suddenly tens of thousands of players are logging on to the game, each eager to pursue their own adventures within the realms, and each of them wishes to have something to do while they spend their time online. Naturally, this means that a company committed to providing its players with a positive experience will have to have enough content waiting at the door that even a hundred thousand players simultaneously will be able to find something to do. It also represents a massive undertaking in terms of scope, design, and general man hours. Whereas a single player production company could hope for tens to hundreds of thousands of development hours in design of the world, formulation of the plot, and coding of the core software; a multiplayer design looks forward to hundreds of thousands or millions. To recover such exorbitant costs, an MMORPG will then have to recruit proportionately that many more people from the get go.

In a recent example, the delay of Star Wars Galaxies (SWG) was criticized by many as an admission from the designers that their product would simply be a lackluster grab for money based on the Star Wars franchise. However, the astute were quick to point out that the claim makes absolutely no sense from a financial standpoint. At the current pace of development, each month which the team puts off release and works on design represents a further million dollars required from its investors. Think of this in terms of their total cost to date. Even assuming only a quarter of this amount for the initial stages and a parabolic ramp up to the final pre-release madness, this still represents an investment of almost 18 million dollars conservatively. By some regards they might almost be thought wise to release the product on their previous schedule if there was even a hope of it passing over. Within current history, there has been such a host of games which were hampered by bug ridden and weak releases that in some ways the public is almost coming to expect it. Riding on the lapels of such a strong trademark, the SWG team could probably still expect to see high initial sales and, if they were swift, they might even be able to shore up any problems which cropped up through a successive series of patches. Its a valid strategy and one which would at least begin the revenue process, even if it still required heavy coding behind the scenes. However, they have instead opted for the alternative route, which will delay release by at least a month, cost the investors nearly a million more in development costs by some estimates, yet hopefully will produce a product with more long term income potential.

As I have mentioned prior to this point, these are only two of the more dominant concerns which a potential developer of MMORPGs need look out for. In addition to increased development costs and the worry of customer support for years to come, there is also the need for a hardware infrastructure to support the players, a constant need for writers and story planners, and the task of balancing the very players themselves. Each of these drains and more should make any potential developer assess the risks and rewards of such a project, and evaluate whether they truly can develop a product which will excel in all, or at least most, categories for a reasonable cost. However, I would also propose that at least one of these obstacles can be at least partially overcome. The method to this circumvention? Don’t create content for the gamers, or at least not in the classical sense of the term.

At first this seems like a counterintuitive remark to the rest of this work, however, as with most things there is a second half. Instead of forcibly creating content for players, which they are then free to explore upon joining, let them create the content for themselves. Admittedly, this is not a completely new concept. Many games already incorporate systems in which players may set up their own shops, build their own homes, and incorporate a virtual economy. However, my vision is somewhat more expansive than this notion. In a metaphor with acting, don’t let them just create the characters which populate the sets, let them create the sets themselves. In single player gaming, this concept has been tried before, just bound within the structured goals and frameworks of such a game. Notable of these were the Dungeon Keeper series in which players were free to set up an entire miniature cavern full of monsters to hamper heroes. In addition, the mapping community for many an FPS game bear strong roots to this tradition, in which whole new worlds are created for friends and peers to experience combat within. Although not a perfect fit to either of these concepts, a multiplayer mapping program would be an efficient method by which vast quantities of content could be added for little in the way of development costs.

Naturally, such a program would have problems of its own. One of the foremost would be quality control. With potentially hundreds of thousands of players building their own mini-realms and the potential for abuse rampant, there would have to be structures in place which would help to regulate the flow of items, income, and power into the economy. One of the first might be a simple limitation on the types and numbers of objects which were available for a particular design. For example, if areas were designated by the potential level of character that could survive within them, areas designated below level ten might have access to one item of 10th level or lower, a few items of between 7th and 9th, and a relatively large amount of intermediary items during their design. In addition, there could be limits on the levels or stats of mobs required to hold particular objects, the maximum attainable wealth from a particular type of kill, and the distance within a realm at which objects must be placed. All of these concepts would help to limit player abuse of the system and the generation of relatively useless player areas. However, if nothing else, the slyness and cunning of a player base is one thing which can always be counted on in MMORPG design, which is why a second primary feature would be needed to provide both a regulation of design and an incentive to do better work.

This second feature would take the form of a public rating system for each of the available areas. Not only would this help to curb abuse of the system with crafty application, it would also serve a number of other functions. Foremost among these would be an incentive for creation. Not only would a public scoring of areas provide their creators with the satisfaction of immediate appreciation and recognition, there could also be tangible benefits associated with excellent performance. These benefits could be simple gifts, such as rare items for their avatars and homes, or they could follow a more pragmatic route and offer benefits to their next area design, such as increased tilesets, a wider range of mobs, or increased item placement based on trust. In addition to increased construction, a public scoring of areas would help to segregate them into categories and zones based upon their prevalent design. If players felt that an area was simply too hard for the rating it promoted they could recommend it as higher. In addition, joke areas; gathering places for roleplay, communication, or trade; entertainment zones; and a host of other concepts free of battle could be segregated into their separate categories so that players could quickly locate and explore a zone which fit their needs.

Although not a perfect solution to the problem of content design, this concept might have the potential to lessen the massive development costs that have come to be associated with MMORPG design. This, unfortunately, would still be little relief for the pains of customer service and in some ways might even be worse, as there would be a host of untrained designers reeking havoc on the world. However, if the code were implemented in a straightforward fashion, it might be possible to reduce the occurrence of many of these problems to the regularity of character or item loss in your normal MMORPG. And with that statement, I can then only hope that some wayward software engineer will note this topic and prove me right in the future, since a player built MMORPG is a concept which appeals to the core of a grass-roots mentality within me.