Gamers: You're Wrong about Microtransactions

Within the gaming community, players and critics alike are unanimous in our hatred of microtransations.

Much of the online discourse centres around the harm of microtransactions. Lootboxes prey on the vulnerable, exposing children to gambling mechanics and hooking players into a cycle of pay-to-win. However, within this discussion, there is almost no acknowledgement as to why.

This creates a cycle of intense frustration. Many view the inclusion of paid DLC as greedy — when triple-A games cost a baseline of $60–80, having to throw yet more cash at the devs just for a completed game feels like a slap to the face. The online community has fiercely condemned microtransaction-heavy companies such as Bethesda, Ubisoft and EA.

Community heavyweights such as Jackfrags, Dunkey, Jim Sterling and Act Man have all voiced their intense disapproval around the practice. The video game industry is under threat! They claim — as more and more franchises (from Dead Space to Halo) lock upgrades, weapons and content behind paywalls.

However, the sheer frustration around this discourse stems from the unavoidable fact that micro-transactions work.

EA revealed that its live services alone made $993 million in Q3 of 2020.

ID Software’s Doom Eternal — praised for going without lootboxes or microtransactions — was revealed to have made 450 million dollars in revenue in 9 months. This is less than half the revenue from EA’s live services, over a longer period of time.

Let’s break down why much of this discussion around micro-transactions — even with tens of millions of views — has failed to dent the microtransaction machine.

The Old Argument

The old case against microtransactions — boiled down to its bare skeleton — is the following:

• Microtransactions available include DLC, cosmetics and content
• This AAA game cost me $60
• This content should have been included in the (substantial) price of the finished game

This argument ripples across the gaming sphere, painting developers as lazy and/or exploitative; made worse by botched and rushed game releases.

For lootboxes, the argument is similar to that of gambling, in that:

• Each roll of the RNG dice costs $5
• There is no guarantee of receiving a cosmetic of that value.
• The developers have a vested interest in maintaining its in-game economy — and rarity of its items.
• Devs have a monetary interest in their lootboxes overpromising and underperforming.

The rise of these features in modern games has led to widespread criticism that gaming is a medium “in decline”. Driven by insatiable greed on the part of games developers and publishers, the gaming industry is becoming more and more ruled by a corporate board, focusing on investors and deadlines; exploiting gamers.

The rough argument that microtransactions are bad for both the consumer and the industry is highly logical. Therefore, speaking up against the industry practice —via meticulously-crafted video essays and memeing on the EA community support team — would logically help shape public opinion; and, crucially, change the gaming market.

However, in almost each and every case — every Youtube video and Reddit post — this rhetoric is swallowed. Gamers then drive themselves into a frenzied wrath as they see the blatant truth that microtransactions make absolute bags.

u/Vorcia sums up a lot of the public opinion succinctly in his comment:

by now its no secret that MTX [microtransactions] isn’t about making an innocent profit by offering optional services to players, the vast majority of MTX content is meant to attack vulnerable players’ insecurities, making them feel dependent on MTX, causing them to enter a very harmful mindset and spend a substantial (sometimes harmful) amount of money on the game for whatever reason.

A New Argument against a New Threat

The driving force behind making a microtransaction (MTX) is an individual, emotional decision. Online arguments around the topic are logic-driven, and focus on wider views of the industry as a whole. No wonder the popular discourse has done absolutely nothing against the rise of MTX.

As we invest more and more hours into a game, learning the ins and outs of battle mechanics, loot systems and team coop, we begin to fully emotionally invest in our own progress and the game world. This immersive quality — entailing suspension of disbelief — is a step away from rational thought, and forms the basis of gaming’s escapism.

It’s why winning at the last Siege 1v1 of the night releases so much sweet, sweet dopamine — and losing makes you want to beat yourself over the head with the keyboard. That’s emotional investment, baby!

This emotional element to video games is one area that vocal critics of microtransactions completely overlook. Jim Stering’s The Addictive cost of Predatory Videogame Monetization hits so close — but oversteps the mark and focuses purely on addiction.

Understanding the emotive power of microtransactions is the first step to changing an industry.

It’s here that we need to take a deeper dive into the world of microtransactions — let’s discover precisely how devs strum your heartstrings to the tune of Doom 2016’s Rip and Tear.

Firstly, the ‘micro’ part: pricing for individual items is kept low. At the same time, your in-game economy needs to be kept nice and healthy: $1,000 is the recommended minimum of an economy’s total worth. This means there’s lots of very small transactional options — preferably in the game’s own currency, which obfuscates the real-world value of these things.

Classic retail tricks like pricing at $0.49 and $0.99 also exploits the brain’s habit of rounding down. A large economy allows the devs to make massive flash-sales — another retail Top Hit.

Delving deeper into a playerbase within the monetization sphere, there are 4 recognised bartle types:

• Achievers (focused on progress — the type who’ll pay to skip an upgrade or cooldown timer)
• Socialites (focused on online customisation — adores weapon skins, emotes and rare cosmetics)
• Killers (looking for a competitive advantage at any cost)
• Explorers (seeking very hidden achievements — think uber-rare drops)

Each of these hold their own motivations at heart whilst playing a game, and these groups are not exclusive — most of us are a veritable pick n mix. When it comes to parting with your real-world cash, all four of these motivations are exploitable. No matter your reasons, MTXs promise to add more fun to a game that you already decently enjoy.

Knowing what bartle type you most fall into, means that you’ll be more aware of your own vulnerabilities — and what flash-sale special offers!! you’re most likely to fall prey to.

Furthermore, as online games match you to similar levels and ranks, you’ll likely see an increase in the number of paid-for items as you progress. While you spend more hours in the game, this psychologically normalises the idea of buying in-game items, and — if you’re of the socialite type — leverages the human brain’s good ol’ fashioned peer pressure mentality.

As you begin to hit your initial level or rank cap — winning starts to become harder and harder. The dopamine cycle of constant winning begins to flag, and the repetitive losses begin to take their toll on your enjoyment of the game. The prospect of buying boosts, or special gear, becomes increasingly tempting.

It’s this promise of heightened enjoyment where microtransactions hold all of the power. And, once you’ve bought that skin, boost or emote — you’ll likely have an absolute blast! For maybe the rest of the session. Eventually however, you’ll have gotten used to your new look, or new abilities — once again hitting a rank cap where their skill exceeds yours.

Do you see — in this critical moment of fumbling for your wallet - how absolutely useless the argument of ‘it’s bad for the gaming industry!’ is?

The way to break this cycle, and dethrone microtransactions, is to acknowledge their appeal. Hell yeah, new weapons and skins are fun! But — despite what the devs would have you believe — it won’t change the long-term gameplay, your own skill level, or what others think of you. With this in mind, you’re free to pay for a neon pink, shiny CS:GO knife — but only if you just really like the pink, dude.

If you’re still uncomfortable with the AAA game you’re playing throwing MTX ads at you, then you must make a decision: is continuing spending time in this game bad for your mood and mental health? If so, there’s tons of fantastic indie games out there for you get stuck into, and avoid the constant pay pressure. These also cost less than $60, and the devs will be so much more thankful for you being there.

So, the emotional problem of microtransactions needs a similarly emotional ‘fix’. Here’s one final suggestion for you skill-based achievers: pwning toxic players with an unassuming, cosmetic-less character is the most cathartic action in existence.