American Sociological Association (Essay)
r
SYNTHETIC
WORLDS THE BUSINESS AND CULTURE OF ONLINE GAMES
eDWARD CASTRONOVA
THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS • CHICAGO AND LONDON
,: ~ ::;.
INTRODUCTION:
! THE CHANGING MEANING OF PLAY f.
Why Are You Paging Through a Book about Games?
According to the jacket material, this book claims to take a serious look at online
computer games. You are actually reading it, at least the first few lines of the intro
duction, and if you are a serious, hardheaded person like me, you must be feeling
a bit strange. I feel a bit strange writing it. Three years ago I was an ordinary econ
omist pursuing generally ordinary economics research. Now, however, I am push
ing deeper and deeper into a realm of experience that's growing faster than I can
examine it, a fantastic cosmos of dragons and rayguns and beautifully crafted
human bodies. It is also a universe that hosts massive flows of real human inter
course-information, commerce, war, politics, society, and culture. I am speak
ing, of course, of the phenomenon known as "massively multi player online
role-playing games" (MMORPGs), places where thousands of users interact with
one another in the guise of video game characters, on a persistent basis: many
, hours a day, every day, all year round. As such, these places are like real cities and fairy-tale cities at the same time, and some of the numbers they are producing might surprise you:
l • Users drive around in these worlds using a video game character in much the r
same the way we use a car to drive around the Earth. Some characters are better l· than others: faster, better looking. They can be bought and sold, most often on r ~ eBay. As I write this, a ledi-type character from a fantasy world based on Star
Wars costs over $2,000 .
• Typical users spend 20-30 hours per week inside the fantasy. Power users spend
every available moment. Some 20 percent of users in a recent survey (see
2 INTRODUCTION
chapter 2) claimed that their fantasy world was their "real" place of residence;
the Earth was just a place you go to get food and sleep (see chapter 2).
o This used to be a niche phenomenon. But synthetic worlds are appearing at the
rate of Moore's Law (Le., doubling every two years), and the current number of
users is 10 million people, at a minimum (see chapter 2).
o Each synthetic world has a play-money currency inside to facilitate player-to
player tr ansactions. These currencies have begun to trade against the dollar
in eBay's Category 1654, Internet Games. Many of them now trade at rates higher
than those of real Earth currencies, including the yen and the Korean won.
o The commerce flow generated by people buying and selling money and other
virtual items (that is, magic wands, spaceships, armor) amounts to at least
$30 million annually in the United States, and $100 million globally (see chap
ters 4 and 6).
o In Asia, people who have lost virtual items because of game-server insecurities
and hacks have called the police and filed lawsuits. The police have made arrests;
courts have heard cases; and plaintiffs have won (see chapters 6, 7, and 11).
It is hard to look at these developments without concluding that something
quite bizarre must be going on, and perhaps something just as important as the
subjects I used to work on as an ordinary economist. Thus while I have little
doubt that I am just as ordinary as I was before, the subjects I write about have
become quite extraordinary. Indeed, this subject, video games, is so extraordinary that it has attracted the attention of one such as yourself-a person who does not
normally think of video games as anything more than child's play. The aim of the
book is to change that view. If you had seen what I have seen in the last few years,
you would sense, as I do, that the line between games and real life has become
blurred. Together we might begin to understand how much this blurring will
change the nature of daily life for our children and grandchildren.
The thesis of the book is that the synthetic worlds now emerging from the
computer game industry, these playgrounds of the imagination, are becoming an
important host of ordinary human affairs. There is much more than gaming
going on there: conflict, governance, trade, love. The number of people who
could be said to "live" out there in cyberspace is already numbering in the mil
lions; it is growing; and we are already beginning to see subtle and not-so-subtle
effects of this behavior at the societal level in real Earth countries. Even if you
haven't paid much attention to multiplayer video game worlds up to now, soon enough, I think, you will. We all will.
Perhaps the easiest way to convince yourself that this hypothesis is, or is not,
true would be to go visit one of these places yourself. Flip through the book; cer-
INTRODUCTION
tain names will come up more than a few times: Ultima Online, EverQuest, Lineage, Second Life, Dark Age ofCamelot, Star Wars Galaxies. Or visit your local game store; as this book goes to press, several hundred thousand people are exploring the
brand-new World of Ware raft· You could find the software, pay for subscriptions, and head out into these places to see what may be seen. I predict, however, that you
might find this means of discovery awfully expensive in terms of time. You would
be trying to study a completely different culture, one for which we have no prior
literature and no guidebooks. The natural first reaction would be bewilderment,
of course. It was for me. Only after hundreds of hours of immersion did I begin to
have any success understanding what is happening there and what it might mean.
Part 1 of this book attempts to shorten the process of discovery by taking the
reader on a guided tour of synthetic worlds. I've found that for many audiences,
mere exposure to this phenomenon as it is today is sufficient to render obvious
some of the deeper consequences, for those aspects of human life and thought
that the listener knows most about. Anthropologists see new cultures, entrepre
neurs see new markets, lawyers see new precedents, and social and political
experts see new pressures and looming crises. Part 1 attempts to deliver a basic
understanding of what this technology is, how it works, how people use it, and
the kinds of social institutions that arise because of it. At that point, the long-run
implications-and as a corollary the merit of video games and interactive media
as objects of serious study and reflection-may already be apparent. We do not
have to look very far into the future to see changes looming.
As a quick test, imagine someone told you that there was a technology that
could reasonably be referred to as "practical virtual reality." This technology
would allow just about anyone, at a modest cost, to spend as much time as they
wished in some kind of alternate reality space that was built and stored on a com
puter. We are not talking about a Holodeck here; this place isn't "real" by any
means. l However, it does feel real enough to the users that they can fairly easily
immerse themselves in it, for hours on end, month after month, year after year, in
a sort of parallel existence. Were such a practical virtual reality possible, we can
have no doubt that profit-seeking enterprises would figure out a way to make it
work. They would build around certain themes and construct entertaining activ
ities, to draw people in. How many people might be drawn into such places for
hours and hours on end? Imagine there were a large number of just-good-enough
fantasy worlds for people to go live in, worlds with all kinds of themes, from
knights in armor to athletes to space travelers to mobsters to almost-credible
lovers. How many people? The fact is, this "just-good-enough" virtual reality technology exists today. By
the time you read this, we will have already moved beyond it, to "almost
4 INTRODUCTION
seductive." And if you didn't answer "just a few" to the question that closed the
preceding paragraph, you might want to take a break here, and then at the end of
part 1, and ask yourself how things might soon be changing in your area of interest.
As I argue in part 2, it is not hard to imagine that there will be major effects in
many areas. The over arching idea in the second half of the book is that the emer
gence of these practical virtual reality spaces will have significant consequences
primarily because events inside and outside them cannot be isolated from one
another. It is not too shocking to imagine that the real world can affect the virtual
world; when it rains on a football game, the game is changed. But we are now
learning that games may become so important to some people, at some times,
that events inside games have effects outside of them. Should more people
become involved in practical virtual reality spaces, these external effects will
become quite serious on a macro level. While one could make a case for these
external effects in a number of areas, especially culture, sociality, relationships,
and individual emotion, I will focus more narrowly on my own areas of interest
in the social sciences: economics, politics, and security. In my opinion, major
changes in these areas would be quite serious indeed, well worth contingency
planning. Part 2 of the book is primarily concerned with assessing the potential
for such changes.
Then in the final part of the book I draw broader conclusions for public pol
icy. Again, imagine you had mastered a technology of practical virtual reality.
What would you do with it? It quite clearly could be good or bad for humanity,
depending on its usage. Given that the technology does exist, and is being driven
onward by a lucrative, savvy industry, we should be aware that while we may have
quite a few years to think about all this, it behooves us to start thinking right now,
before the time to make important decisions arrives.
What Is a Synthetic World?
So far I have been referring to the technology in question as a "practical virtual
reality" tool, a way to make decently immersive virtual reality spaces practically
available to just about anyone on demand. For the most part, I will refer to these
places as synthetic worlds: crafted places inside computers that are designed to
accommodate large numbers of people. The specific incarnations that I will talk about in this book are places created by video game designers. Chances are, if you
are under 35 years old you know exactly what that means, because you have been playing in synthetic worlds since you were a kid and you know that they have
moved online. If you're not part of the video game generation, you might have
INTRODUCTION
trouble seeing the connection. Your kids or grandkids play video games on their
TVs, on desktop computers, on little handheld devices-what does that have to
do, you might ask, with "virtual reality"?
Such a question makes good sense because games and handheld video devices
are not part of our standard image of what virtual reality is all about. For most
people, I suspect, the first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of "virtual
reality" is a laboratory filled with expensive gear. You know, the bulky vision
goggles that go over your head, the web of wires and straps for your arms and legs,
the funny half-chair, half-bike apparatus that you wiggle around on, the six-sided
surround-sound rooms at Disneyland that make you feel like you're standing in
the Amazon jungle or on the Moon. Jennifer Lopez in The Cell (2000): bodies sus
pended on wires, wrapped in a second skin that looks somewhat like ribbed beef
jerky. That's virtual reality, right? WelI, no. At least, not entirely, not any more. At one time, virtual reality was indeed a matter of basic lab research and ingenious
sensory-input devices, a scientific research program that made headlines in the
early 1990S. But the virtual reality I am talking about has emerged independently
of that program: it grew out of the game industry, without any influence from the
scientists. Game developers had been exposed to the same basic ideas of virtual
reality that everyone else had-Gibson's Neuromancer (1984), Vernor Vinge's True
Names (1981), and so on-but they took them in a completely different direction. The difference was this: the science program focused on sensory-input hardware,
while the gamers focused on mentally and emotionally engaging software. As you
Can imagine, a person can become "immersed" either way: either the sensory
inputs are so good that you actually think the crafted environment you're in is
genuine, or, you become so involved mentally and emotionally in the synthetic
world that you stop paying attention to the fact that it is only synthetic. It turns
out that the way humans are made, the software-based approach seems to have
had much more success. It certainly is more popular, and also cheaper for users and developers. And so, as we head into the twenty-first century, the dominant
paradigm for virtual reality is not hardware but software, and that means that any
device, even a crude one, that can engage a person in the happenings it portrays,
is a little virtual reality tool. When children play at their little handhelds and when
executives fiddle around with the games on their smartphones, there's immersion
going on, a virtual reality brought about by games rather than devices.
Now, the contrast between the scientific and the gaming approach to virtual
reality is important to the intellectual placement of a book like this, but it's also
something of a tangent, mostly because the interesting thing about these two
fields is how little they have to do with one another. There's a man-bites-dog story
here: virtual reality lost much of its status as an exciting technology over the past
6 INTRODUCTION INTRODUCTION
decade, and while it is now re-emerging with considerable force, what's strange is that it is not emerging from the ruins of the old paradigm. Rather, it is growing
up in a completely different place. The story of how these development tracks
emerged independently of one another is worth telling, at least for those inter
ested in virtual reality in general and its intellectual history. However, the target
audience for this book is not the virtual reality specialist but rather professionals
in business, government, and education, parents, journalists, and academics, basi
cally folks in other walks of life for whom this new and practical virtual reality
represents genuine opportunities as well as threats. The members of the Army Air
Corps in 1918 were not so interested in the fact that the bicycle makers who built
the first airplane modeled it not on the vehicles they had been building before,
but on something completely different, the automobile. That's fascinating history,
but it's not necessary to an assessment of the technology's impact. No, people who
are going to be affected by new machines just want to know what they are all
about and what they can do.
So I won't be spending much time on the traditional virtual reality paradigm,
other than to describe, as a lengthy aside (see the appendix at the end of the
book), why its vision did not lead to the massively populated, yet mechanically
crude, virtual reality spaces we have today. Readers interested in the contrasts
between paradigms could take a pause and have a look at the appendix. Those not
interested in that history could continue here without significant cost.
For those who did not grow up with video games and are not all that familiar
with previous efforts to construct virtual reality, the basic idea behind the video
game as a practical virtual reality tool is this: If the game is online, a user can log
into it from any computer on the Earth. The screen turns into a window through
which an alternative Earth, a synthetic world, can be seen. This other place
(another planet, a historical domain, or any other plane of existence) can have
mountains, stars, and fire in it; it can have gravity, or no gravity, or reverse grav
ity; it might have trees and grass, but also chickens and dragons, or chicken
headed dragons or dragon-headed chickens; it might have houses and taverns and
castles, or spaceships, or tiki bars; and it might have people. Some of the people
you would see might be software-controlled, but others would be controlled by
real humans, such as yourself. In fact, there might be a mirror there, and if you
press the right buttons and maneuver your viewscreen in the right way, you
would see yourself, present, in that place. The window by which your computer
is depicting the world is, in fact, the surface of somebody's eye, and that some
body is you. More accurately. you have been given a synthetic body in the synthetic world,
and your computer is rendering the world as it would be perceived by the ocular
sensory device that your synthetic body possesses. If you see someone else in the
world, and she is pointing her visual sensing device at you, well, the two of you
are looking at one another through your computer screens. She may be in Hong
Kong, and you may be in New York, but you are still occupying the same segment
of cyberspace and you have just made eye contact. Of course, her appearance
there may not match the looks of her body on Earth, but neither does yours. She
may even be a he, not a she, or something else again. But shefhefit is a person, like
you, and you can have a relationship with her that is just like any other relation
ship you might have with another person. The only difference is that this rela
. tionship is being mediated by a body that is one step removed from the Earth
body, and therefore occurs in a place that is one step removed from the Earth.
I said above that synthetic worlds are becoming important because events
inside them can have effects outside them. This flow of influence from inside to
outside is generated by a very simple core mechanism that is easy to see in the
vignette above. As soon as it goes online and begins to receive visitors, a synthetic
world begins to host ordinary human affairs. However fantastical the place may
be-whether visitors are represented as mobsters, dragons, or crumb cakes-it
still and always is playing host to ordinary human beings, with their ordinary
ways of interacting with one another. The physical environment is entirely crafted
and can be anything we want it 'to be, but the human social environment that
emerges within that physical environment is no different from any other human
social environment. And because no one can permanently separate events in one
sphere of their life from all the other spheres, that part of human life taking place
in synthetic worlds will have effects everywhere. At the same time, the things that
happen there will not be run-of-the-mill things. We will no longer be in Kansas,
and many of the rules will be different. Thus not only will there be spillover
effects; the effects, such as they are, will seem weird.
In short, synthetic worlds put ordinary humanity in a very strange place,
producing forces that deserve hardheaded attention, in my view. All things that
matter to ordinary people-their loves, their crusades, their morals, and their
material assets-may now have a home in a place other than Earth. That place
operates under different rules. As Lawrence Lessig (1999) describes it, the unusual
thing about cyberspace is that we can be both here and there at the same time,
and the place that is "there" can be constructed, essentially, however we might
like. Thus, all of our interests are the same as they ever were, but the environment
in which we pursue them has become untethered from the Earth environment
with which we have become so comfortable.
Deep questions arise, only a few of which we will have space for. But it is easy
to find a simple example of the way that the strange and ordinary features of
8 INTRODUCTION
synthetic worlds can conspire to generate phenomena worth thinking about.
Consider the price of diamonds. On Earth, these items tend to be quite expensive.
They are beautiful, and if crafted well, they enhance the beauty of those who wear
them. Their beauty contributes to their price. of course, but so does their scarcity.
Now, what if the Earth could be induced to produce as many diamonds as any
one would ever want? Such a thing is impossible here, but not in cyberspace. The
coding authority who owns and controls a synthetic world could pave the streets
with diamonds if it desired. The coding authority could also order the world to
make gems that are more beautiful than diamonds. Or, the coding authority
could make diamonds much rarer than they are on Earth. and then also purge the
world of rubies. emeralds. sapphires, and every other type of gem. All of these
coding decisions would affect the price of diamonds and the happiness of the
people wearing them. The role of diamonds in society would be affected: Would
the lover still give the beloved a glittering gem if it becomes common, or impos
sibly rare? How uncommon must a diamond be to serve as a love token? Or as a
power symbol? Such questions are moot on Earth, because our planet is endowed
with a certain availability of diamonds based on their presence in the ground and
our understanding of how to get them out of the ground. In synthetic worlds, things are different. The availability of diamonds is not an endowment but a
choice. Thus while the mental objects in play there (beauty, price, love, profit,
scarcity, reputation, power) are nothing new. the rulebook under which they are
all contested is a new thing indeed. Moreover, a love token is a love token is a love
token: If the coding authority messes around with its virtual diamonds, it will
affect some aspects of the love relationships between living, breathing humans.
The heartaches and joys that result will not be virtual at all, nor will the behav
ioral reactions on Earth, which may range from new sleeping patterns to sub
stantial purchases of alcoholic beverages. These will be genuine feelings and
actual phenomena, as real as anything else under the sun.
Thus, it is the core features of synthetic worlds-the fact that they are radically
manufacturable places that can be shared by many people at once-that generate
their nontrivially unique inside-to-outside patterns of influence. Place a group of
people in a strange place, and they will follow their usual tendencies in pursuit of
their usual objectives. The outcomes will be both strange and familiar, and will
radiate outward. 2
Moreover, this combination of the bland, the fantastic, and the consequential
points to the simplest answer to the question of what synthetic worlds really are:
a frontier. Indeed, viewing synthetic worlds as a locus of migration is useful in
coming to practical terms with their effects, and there certainly is some evidence
of motion from "here" to "there." Statistics reported in this book will suggest that
~ ~. INTRODUCTION 9
many people are diving into the new worlds right now. with enthusiasm.
Evidently, they find the physical environments crafted by computer game
designers much more attractive than Earth. Accordingly. these travelers or
colonists have come to maintain a large fraction of their social, economic. and political lives there.
These migratory patterns accord with the predictions of cyber-theorists such
as William Gibson (Neuromancer, 1984) and Neal Stephenson (Snow Crash, 1992),
who saw no long-run limit on the amount of time people would want to spend
in virtual reality environments, were they to become practical. Now indeed they
seem to have become practical enough. in a rudimentary way. to serve as way sta
tions between the late twentieth century and the future as these authors envi
sioned it. Furthermore: It has already been several years since perceptive people
like John Walker (1988), Michael Vlahos (1998), Ray Kurzweil (1999). and Hans
Moravec (1999)-none of them novelists-began to argue that that future was
nearer than we might think, that humans and their machines were going to
become more intimately involved with one another, and fairly quickly at that. The
natural location for getting together is in cyberspace, of course, through simu
lated bodies in simulated spaces. Why would you type into your computer if you
could talk instead? And why talk to a gray screen when you could instead have a
conversation over a virtual lunch ~ith an attractive humanoid-looking being? These kinds of interactions, which could occur most easily in a crafted, synthetic
world environment, seem quite plausible to anyone thinking about the growing
power of computer technology. From this point of view, synthetic worlds are sim
, ply intermediate environments: the first settlements in the vast, uncharted terri tory that lies between humans and their machines.
Names for a New World
Today, of course, most synthetic worlds are considered games, and the term used
to describe them-prepare your tongue. this won't be easy-is MMORPG. This
jawbreaker (I pronounce it "mor-peg") emerged from a game industry practice
that refers to games like Dungeons and Dragons as "RPGs," for "role-playing
games." Specify an RPG as an online game, and it becomes ORPG. Such a game
with multiple players is a MORPG, "M" standing for "multiplayer." Around 1996,
the industry acquired the technical capacity to expand the number of players
from a then-ordinary number (8-16) to what was considered a very large number
(3,000-4,000), and the term "massively multi player" was coined. MMORPG, for
"maSSively multi player online role-playing game." has become the standard term
10 INTRODUCTION
of reference for all synthetic worlds-a development only the Pentagon (and
some university administrators) would admire.
There are other words to use, even some that can be pronounced. The ances
tors of MMORPGs were text-based multiuser domains (MUDs), commonly
referred to as virtual worlds. The usage has now been applied to a wide variety of Internet spaces, but because of the unfortunate history of the "virtual reality"
scientific research paradigm (see the appendix), the "virtual" tag has lost its
meaning in many respects. Vlahos refers to the terminus of our migration as
the infosphere, but he is talking about networked· communication in general.
William Gibson coined cyberspace, a term that has become too general, unfortu nately. Neal Stephenson used the term metaverse, but that concept does not
reflect the rendered, role-playing aesthetic that we now see is an important
aspect of synthetic worlds, and by its derivation from universe it overlooks the
fact that there are going to be many thousands of synthetic worlds to choose
from, not just one.
For a more targeted term, consider proskenion, from ancient Greek theater.
Brenda Laurel (1993) and Janet Murray (1997) propose that much of what hap
pens in computers and online is a form of interactive storytelling or theater.
Theater in Greece began as religious ritual and took place in a circular area at the
foot of a hill. When ritual became drama, a small tent or hut called the skene was
built at the back of the circular area, to facilitate costume changes and exits and
entrances. Eventually, visual imagery (scenery) was painted on the skene, and then
a raised platform was constructed on its front. This structure, the proskenion, is
arguably the first physical space constructed by humans explicitly to serve as
some other place, indeed, a place that exists only in our imaginations. In contem
porary theater, proscenium is a technical term referring to the area on the stage
that is outside the curtain but in front of the audience. This is apt as well. It sug
gests that "proskenion" serves as a term for any rendered, imaginary place, and it
also reminds us, metaphorically, that the stages on which online dramas play out
involve m both as actors and audience-the action occurs in a place that is not
quite the stage, but not quite the seats either. 3 And once the audience becomes the
players, of course, the play is no longer a play; it's ordinary life, even though it
happens on a stage.
Indeed. following the theatrical metaphor, another term that might make sense
is hyperstage. When programming allowed text to deliver radically new levels of information, text became hypertext. Similarly, MMORPGs take the concept of an
ordinary stage and extend it radically. These places are theatrical locales in the
sense that they are not of the Earth, and in that they allow people to take on many
roles (including their true self if desired). But they are much more than that. They
INTRODUCTION 11
allow such a huge number of players, and such an unscripted plot, that the line
between acting and mere living blurs and, in many cases, vanishes outright.
Moreover, we can teleport from one stage to the next with the click of a but
ton, just as hypertext takes us from page to page instantly. Foreshadowed in
Shakespeare's As You Like It, a hyperstage is a stage of the whole, a place in which
computing technology has erased the distinction between actor and audience, here and there, scenery and landscape, role and self.4
While there might be a number of useful new terms, I will stick primarily with
the term synthetic world: an expansive, world-like, large-group environment
" made by humans, for humans, and which is maintained, recorded, and rendered by a computer.
The Consequences of New Frontiers
However we refer to these territories-virtual world, MMORPG, cyberspace,
metaverse, proskenion, hyperstage, or synthetic world-the most general causes
and effects of any migration into them may not be hard to predict. Human
migration is a well-known and fairly well-studied phenomenon (Borjas 2001).
A simplified economic story wO'uld say that those doing relatively less well in one
place face the risks of change and head off into a new place. They stake claims
there but retain ties with their former neighbors. If they do well. they stay; if they
don't, they go back. Economists argue that as people sort themselves into differ
ent places based on their skills and preferences, everyone is better off. Those who
do well by moving. move; those who do well by staying, stay; and everyone even
tually finds the best possible place to be.
While this is a happy story in the long run, nonetheless, it is also a story of great
change and short-run stress. Social and cultural attitudes, technology, and the
distribution of wealth may all be radically altered. If the migration is rapid or
accompanied by major shifts in thought paradigms, these alterations may be
traumatic or lead to conflict. If we indeed experience a gradual migration of
human consciousness into the synthetic universe, we will also have a growing
need for economic. political, social, and cultural expertise to deal with the diffi
cult issues that will arise. From first-hand experience, I believe there is room for
both optimism and pessimism on this score. On the positive side, I've had many
inquiries from graduate students and junior professionals who are eager to be
come experts on synthetic worlds. On the negative side, all of these junior-level thinkers, without exception, have been hampered by an (understandable) baffle
ment on the part of their supervisors that something really important might be
12 INTRODUCTION
happening in video games. An aspiring doctoral student forwarded me a thesis
proposal in which the main research question was simply, "What are
MMORPGs?" Since such a descriptive question seemed, to me, subpar for PhD
level work ("What are automobiles?"), I pressed for an explanation and was told
that the student's major professor had required it. That kind of story tells me we
have a long way to go before we will have a significant number of influential peo
ple who can make reasoned judgments about this technology. Indeed, part 1 of
this book was, in one sense, written precisely to facilitate interactions between
junior professionals and their superiors. Were I a graduate student, or a young
journalist, or a middle-management executive, facing the inevitably crabby objec
tions of the senior people ("Wait-what are these 'm-mor-pegs'?? And, why in
the world would you think that anything in a video game could be that impor
tant??"), my answers would be summarized out of part 1.
But let's assume that this aspiration has been realized-that we know what
synthetic worlds are-and that we also begin to observe a migration in progress.
Part 2 considers some of the consequences. But I'd like to stress from the outset
that there is more here than an effort to point at something on the Internet and
say, "Look! It's amazing, new, and radical and will change the world!" While I do
intend to talk about the conceivable broader implications of synthetic worlds,
I don't intend this to be a book of hype. I'm not an eager technovisionary or an
ambassador of digital hipness from the Millennial Generation. No, I am a middle
aged guy who works in Social Studies. My objective in part 2 is to discuss many
of the hard economic, political, and security-related questions that synthetic
worlds bring up.
Consider the questions about commerce and economics discussed in chapters
7 and 8. On the one hand, commercial activity seems to emerge automatically and
with great gusto in these worlds. On the other, every world-builder and traveler
knows that most synthetic worlds have what can only be termed "weird"
economies at the macroeconomic level. Some say they are broken. Some say they
work just fine. Some of these economies seem to function welL but they are no
fun. Others function very poorly and are a blast to play in. The hard questions
here are, What could the economy be, in a world where every physical object can
be costlessly rendered in whatever quantities desired? And what should it be?
Whatever the answers may be, it is apparent that nobody is waiting for them.
Rather, users of these worlds are forming economic organizations left and right,
some incorporated on Earth, most not. They mine items and gold from the worlds and sell them on eBay; they offer guide services; they speculate in rare
quantities; and they make money. By some reports, some of them are making quite a bit of money. At the level of a few video games, this is at most mildly inter-
INTRODUCTION 13
esting. But what happens if these video games emerge as a parallel economy of
significant proportions? By my own estimates, the collective volume of annual
trade in synthetic worlds is, at this writing, almost certainly above $1 billion. S In
other words, it already exceeds the total sales of a few real countries. What is true
of sales is also true of total synthetic world production, as well as production per
capita. Indeed, GDP per capita inside synthetic worlds is far higher than in the
real world's poorer economies, such as those of India and China. There are clear
implications for labor markets and globalization. Yet we have quite literally no
formal expertise on how these economies are designed and managed.
Another hard question involves governance, discussed in chapter 9. Who owns
synthetic worlds; who should own them; and how should relations between the
owners and the residents/players be structured? And again, what's the objective?
Should a synthetic world government be held to the same standards of perform
ance as we apply to Earth governments? Or is the objective simply to have fun?
Do all good governments, as defined by the great, and dead, political philosophers
of the Western tradition, maximize the amount of fun to be had? It seems to me that this last question is a very hard question indeed, one that is intrinsic to the
very act of world-building, and may be closer to the core of contemporary poli
tics than we realize.
All of these questions raise another: Who (if anyone) should regulate transac
tions and relationships across the silicon border, and how? To what end? Who are
the constituents of these policies and what are their rights? How are they repre
sented? What rights do Earth governments have in regard to threatening organi
zations that exist only in synthetic worlds?
Finally, consider questions about war. As I discuss in chapters 10 and 11, people
who play these games fight, constantly. Sometimes they fight in rooms that look
'like the room you're standing in. That's right. It would be easy for some computer
whiz to build the bookstore or library (or trash can, I suppose) you're browsing
through. He could put in all the shelves, indeed all the books in all the shelves. He
could make the stairs and the counters and the doors and the locks on the doors.
Using current AI technology, he could build robots that would do basically what
you have been doing, wandering about pseudo-aimlessly, finding this section of
books, glancing at various titles and then, as the result of some horrible cognitive
catastrophe, making the mistake of sliding this book from among its neighbors,
opening it, and flipping through its pages. Our coder could build the security
cameras too, and the alarms, and he could endow the security guard's pistol with
the correct range, line-of-sight, rounds per minute, and impact effects. Then he
could make characters for himself and his friends, wrap sticks of dynamite to their chests, and place detonators and guns in their virtual hands. And then they
14 INTRODUCTION
could all work on their timing for the Big Event. Practice, practice, practice: since
it is a virtual world, they can take all the time they need, to figure out exactly
where to stand to block off your exit, where to shoot to kill the security guard who
rushes down the stairs, and where to shout to get the attention of the TV crews
who will accumulate outside. They could do all of this in cyberspace, using exist
ing synthetic world technology. In fact, for all we know, they've already done it.
The room you are in right now may already be part of someone's Master Plan.
How would you find out? How do you stop it? . In brief, this is not a book about that wacky, wonderful Internet, wacky and
wonderful though it may be, but rather about some very difficult issues that may
be appearing on the horizon. It's a book that tries to apply age-old reasoning from
the social sciences to some age-old problems that are resurfacing, in a new way,
in a very different kind of place.
One Guy's Journey into Synthetic World Expertise
I mentioned at the beginning that, as strange as some of these possibilities may
seem, it is almost as strange to be claiming expertise about them. What makes a
person write a book about the serious consequences of video games? The story
of my own transition into this dubious status might be illuminating, I think,
because it reveals how strong synthetic world technology has already become as a
force for change. You see, to me, synthetic worlds did not seem to be anything more than fun,
and perhaps funny, at first. Well before I was an economist, I was a person who
played lots of games. I started with geeky board games as a teenager (Panzerblitz, an old Avalon Hill title, was my first) and advanced to multiplayer political
games (Kingmaker, Avalon Hill) and fantasy games (Dungeons and Dragons, TSR) in college. My college years were also the golden age of arcade video games,
and I spent as much time as anyone shoving quarters into slots. 6 For some rea
son, the powers that be at Georgetown decided that a great place for the game
arcade would be directly below a classroom, and I spent many class-time hours completely distracted by the bings and beeps incessantly sounding off a few feet
below me. I did manage to graduate, and I went on to higher training in the field of economics. Feeling that it was important to be as morose as the discipline
I had chosen, I put the games away during graduate school. At about that time, however, personal computers became a necessity for anyone doing advanced
economic research, and I saw no reason why I should not take a few moments in between statistics sessions to playa computer game or two. I mean, here was all
INTRODUCTION IS
the fun of the arcade, without spending 25 cents for each play! And no lines,
either. By the end of my graduate training, I had developed a rudimentary under
standing of economics but a deep mastery of the subtleties involved in stealth
fighter tactics (F-19, Microprose), urban planning (SimCity, Broderbund), global domination (Civilization, Microprose), and the properties of odd-shaped and conditionally self-exploding blocks that fall sequentially through a low-gravity
environment (Tetris, Academy50ft). At my first job after graduate school I
remember having an uncomfortable discussion over cocktails with a very
respected senior faculty member, after he revealed that he was himself a fan of
tohe game Civilization. We enthusiastically traded strategies for a while, until the bemused smiles of those standing around made the whole thing feel too weird.
So we went back to talking about German economic policy. It certainly occurred
to no one at that party that economic policy might be happening inside a game within a few years.
I only discovered that in April 2001, when I started to play the game EverQuest (Sony Online Entertainment). This was a fantasy role-playing game, not unlike
Dungeons and Dragons, except that it all happened online. I picked it up one evening because I thought it might be fun to act like a wizard or warrior, along
with other people, in a computer game. When I first entered the game world,
I was shocked at how complex the"place was. Learning how to move and speak
took quite a bit of time; learning my way around the huge world, with no maps,
was also a challenge. Then there was the entire system of self-defense, combat,
and spell-casting to be learned. Lastly, and most important, there was a rich and
well-developed player society, whose language, culture, and norms were entirely
foreign to me. Inside the game, there were thousands of players present at anyone
time, and outside of it, there were thousands of websites devoted to various
aspects of gameplay. It was like no game I had ever played before. It was an intel
lectual challenge simply to understand what EverQuest was. It was a slice of prac tical virtual reality, as I've said, but since I had completely missed the VR hype of
the previous decade, that similarity was completely lost on me. I just thought it
was an incredibly interesting and deep implementation of network technology
that also happened to be fun to play around in.
While having fun and trying to figure the whole thing out, however, I noticed
immediately that economic transactions between players were an incredibly important part of what was happening. Within the game, in the cities, people
.were constantly shouting offers to buy and sell goods and services. "Want to sell
Electrum Ruby Ring, only fifty platinum pieces!" "Looking for teleport to the B~tcherblock Mountains, will pay." And so on. This buying and selling generated much of the sense of vitality in the place. Commerce was important outside the
16 I NT RO D U CTlfrN
game as well, revealing how many people seemed immersed in this place and
what they were willing to pay, in real money, to do things there. A number of fan
sites listed in-game prices for items. Moreover, online auction sites hosted US dol lar markets for game goods, including game currency. At these sites, people would
auction off the play money of the game for real US dollars. Intrigued, I started to
surf these sites from time to time and jot down the implied exchange rates. Inside
the game, I took note of the items that sold for the highest prices, and I tried to
explore the world to see why these items were so expensive. As it was, the whole thing made economic sense. The prized items made a
character in the game more powerful. With the right equipment, a character
could cast more powerful spells, push deeper into dangerous dungeons, and
travel more quickly and safely across the continents. Since these activities were
fun things to do, according to the players, it made sense that items that en
hanced those activities would be highly demanded. The online trade in dol
lars also made economic sense. Some people who had lots of dollars happened
to want more EverQuest play money, and some people who had lots of Ever Quest play money happened to want more dollars. After all, you couldn't buy super magic swords using dollars; you had to trade the dollars for Ever Quest money first, and then use the EverQuest money to get the sword you wanted. It made sense that the people with the excess stocks of EverQuest play money would be willing to exchange them for dollars, and it also made sense
that people with relatively large stocks of US dollars would be willing to
exchange them for EverQuest play money. So, here was a great big fantasy world playing host to a basically normal econ
omy. It occurred to me to write a tongue-in-cheek paper about that. Wouldn't
that be a hoot; I thought. A paper that would look like the World Bank Economic Report for Poland, except it would be Castronova's Economic Report for EverQuest. And this would not have been such a strange thing for a midcareer economist to
do. There is actually a tradition of tongue-in-cheek research in economics, in which authors will write careful papers about the economics of trivial, funny
things. There is a well-known paper about the economics of the American TV
game show Jeopardy! for example (Metrick 1995). Papers like this can be quite entertaining for economists- remember that at conferences they would typically confront such a paper following a less-than-scintillating talk on "Capital Taxation
in Dynamic Models with Perfect Foresight: The Case of New Zealand." After something like that, a paper about the economics of a game show can seem very
interesting indeed. I felt that a paper about the economics of EverQuest would have a similarly pleasing effect: a joke, but an entertaining one at least. In the dis
mal science, it's not too hard to be a decent clown.
IN T RO DUCT I ON 17
Tongue firmly in cheek, I began to record all the data I could lay my hands
on-whatever seemed relevant to an economic report on this odd place. I got
price data from in the game and from fan websites. I counted in-game popula tions as many ways as I could think to do it. I surveyed players and asked them
about their investments of time and money into their characters. I tried to figure
out how much effort it took to produce various commodities and services. I
bought and played other games, to get a sense of how EverQuest was unique and how it was typical. And I scanned the online auctions, to try to measure the real
world money value of all these prices and production levels. I tried to get some
measure of everything in this world that would matter to a Central Statistical
Office or Census Bureau.
All of this took several months in the Summer of 2001, and it had to compete with teaching, my ongoing research on social policy and the welfare state, and set
tling in to a new apartment with my wife. However, the EverQuest topic steadily
occupied more and more space in my mind. Those of us who do research for a
living actually don't have much control over the subjects we study; thinking goes
on 24 hours a day, and it seems that if a topic so desires, it can force a higher pri
ority for itself than we want it to have. So it was with the EverQuest Economic Report. I kept thinking about it all the time-while commuting, on waking up,
before going to sleep, sitting in church, waiting at the doctor's office. I picked up
a few books about technology, computers, and the Internet. I rented science fic
tion films like Brazil (1985) and The Matrix (1999). I subscribed to Wired. It turned out that there were dozens of synthetic world games like EverQuest in
development at the time, and at one point I stumbled across one called Project
Entropia that had some extremely interesting features. This game world would allow players to buy and sell items using Earth currency, and its business plan was
to make the synthetic world so large that all humans-all 6 billion of them
could be in it, all the time. The world owners hoped to entice the entire human
tribe to visit the game world, and then make billions by selling advertising space
and virtual storefronts within it. The whole thing sounded preposterous in the
moment, but it was a rather breathtaking vision of the future all the same. It led me to ask whether such a thing was even possible.
After a bit of further reading, I became convinced that it is, indeed, possible, if
not now, in a generation or two. Ray Kurzweil is a brilliant and well-respected technologist, an inventor of marvelous devices ranging from sophisticated elec
tronic music synthesizers to reading machines for the blind. In The Age ofSpiritual Machines (1999), Kurzweil discusses the nature of computing and its prospects for growth. He makes a number of arguments about the future. Not all of them were persuasive to me at the time, but one that seemed very hard not to believe involved
18 INTRODUCTION INTRODUCTION 19
the raw amount of computing power that humans would come to possess, The
short, simple point in Kurzweil's book is that humans are going to have a lot of
com pu ting power. This seems likely even if nothing especially exciting happens by
way of technological innovation. As a result, the experience of every generation,
for quite some time, will be that the next generation grows up with incredibly
more powerful computers. My generation, those who played arcade video games
as teenagers, is only the first of many to have this experience. And it follows that
almost any computational problem that can be imagined by a single person right
now will eventually be mastered by a computer. The way Kurzweil expressed it, at
some point in the twenty-first century the standard personal computing device
will have as much computing power as a single human brain. Not long after that,
it will have the computing power of all the human brains that have ever lived,
One important use of all that power, according to Kurzweil, will be to upload
brains and recreate consciousness inside silicon. I doubted that on reading it,
but I was not following that line of argument very closely anyway because I was
thinking about EverQuest. Add computing power to a game world and you get a
place that's much bigger, much richer, and much more immersive. The robots
running around in it, humanoid and unhumanoid, are smarter and act more and
more like real people and real monsters (if there is such a thing). Add immense
computing power to a game and you might get an incredibly realistic extension
of Earth's reality itself. The place that I call "game world" today may develop into
much more than a game in the near future. It may become just another place for
the mind to be, a new and different Earth.
It turned out that Kurzweil was not the only one making such judgments about
the potential computing power of humanity. As I mentioned earlier, a number
of authors have made similarly persuasive arguments (Moravec 1999; Joy 2000).
While some have argued that increases in raw processing power do not automati
cally convert themselves into improvements in economy and society, not too many
dispute that increases will happen.7 It's hard to see how they might not happen.
Any piece of matter that can be switched between two positions can be used to
store binary data and process commands on it. We know we can compute on sili
con, a material whose raw com putational power doubles every two years or so, But
we can also compute with other materials, such as DNA or quantum particles. We have, already in place, extremely strong economic incentives to encourage
researchers to discover these new computing methods. Thus, from an economic standpoint, it seems quite likely that if there are sources of computing power in the materials around us, they will be tapped. The extremely rapid growth we have
observed so far-from glowing green text to immersive 3D forests in just twenty years-seems likely to continue, whether on silicon or something else.
The prospect of continued growth in computing power had a serious implica tion for my research into EverQuest. What was just a game world in 2001 might
be a richly simulated and completely immersive mental environment in 2101.
Perhaps by 2101, it would be trivial to simulate the entire scope of known human
history from 10,000 BC to AD 2000 at the level of individual synapses of all the
brains that lived in that period. Or perhaps worlds like that would only be possi
ble in 2200, or 2300. And perhaps no one would want to simulate that history;
perhaps we would all prefer a different history. While we are at it, why not just
simulate our future instead? Those pesky stars and galaxies are so far away. Under
Einstein's rules we will probably never get there. But if we simulate a space-time
world that allows us to travel there in our minds, if not our bodies, we can go
there right away. Whatever these simulations will be like, and at whatever pace
they appear over the next few centuries, it seems clear that they will be an impor
tant host of human mental activity. How exciting, then, that early outlines of their
characteristics can be seen today, right now, by looking at their ancestors: game
worlds like EverQuest. My silly paper about a computer game thus turned into a
more general study of the economic and social life just starting to develop inside this silicon shell.
Because it had to deal with such an unusual and emergent phenomenon, the
paper that I eventually wrote ("Virtual Worlds: A First-Hand Account of Market
and Society on the Cyberian Frontier") ended up looking nothing at all like a tra ditional economics paper. It had a wealth of economic and social data about the
world of EverQuest. I found, for example, that you could work in EverQuest and
earn something like 300 platinum pieces (EverQuest's currency) an hour, on aver
age. If you converted that into real money by selling it online, it would come to
about $3.50. So you could earn a poverty-level wage, in real dollars, by "working"
in the game. I also found that the ongoing exchange rate between platinum pieces
and dollars was higher than that of the Japanese yen, the Korean won, and (at the
time) the Italian lira. When I looked at population numbers and estimated the
market value of production on an annual basis, that came to over $2,000 per per
son. In other words, I had found that the Gross National Product of Norrath, per
capita, was about the same as Bulgaria's and four times higher than China's or India's. This game world, though small, was host to quite a bit of productive activity,
Aside from economic data, the paper was also filled with vignettes and sto ries about the strangeness of life in Norrath. Some kind of storytelling was essential, because the world being described was foreign to the general econo
mist reader. This was almost more deep-immersion anthropology than eco nomics, but, frankly, economists generally don't believe in deep-immersion research and they certainly don't care too much for "vignettes." As a result, I was
20 INTRODUCTION
not sure about the prospects for publication. I had a research affiliation at the
CESifo institute at the University of Munich, however, that would allow me to
place up to four draft papers annually in their working papers series. CESifo
Working Papers could be downloaded through the Social Science Research
Network, the main online clearinghouse for research in law, management, eco
nomics, and finance. So I decided that I could just release the paper that way.
I could find out whether anyone had an interest in an unusual economics paper
about an unusual thing, a thing that might be serious or might not be, depend
ing on how you feel about the future of computing and the Internet. The paper
became a CESifo Working Paper in December ZOOl and was listed at SSRN.com
in January zooz.
Now, at that time, economics was not the most popular thing being down
loaded on the Internet, not even at SSRN. Download a finance paper, and you
might learn how to make some money in stocks. Got a legal issue? Download a
law paper. Downloading an economics paper was typically less likely to get you
anything immediately useful. As a result, the top downloads at SSRN were all law,
finance, and management papers that had been around since the inception of the
site (1997) and had accumulated thousands of downloads. Comparatively, a typ
ical SSRN paper in economics might have gotten one or two downloads in its
entire lifetime; a popular paper might have had one or two a month; a paper
assigned by a professor to his students might get 50 or 100 downloads. I thought "Virtual Worlds," as a quirky paper, might get 100 orso downloads. Maybe some
econ grad students might use it to have something edgy to talk about over lunch. Given these expectations, I was pretty shocked when the paper had 500 down
loads the first day or so. My wife and I went out for a nice meal. When it hit 1,000
downloads a few days later, we went out for another nice meal. At 5,000 down
loads a couple weeks later, we went out for still another nice meal. At 10,000
downloads, about two months later, we went out again, but agreed that our
budget and waistlines couldn't handle any more nice meals. But people kept
downloading the paper. By summer zooz, "Virtual Worlds" was pushing zo,ooo
downloads and had entered the all-time top-ten download list for SSRN, the only
paper published since 1997 to have done so. It was also the all-time number one download for economics papers. Well, I couldn't avoid the conclusion that the
paper had made some kind of an impact with lots of people, but, for the most part, I had no idea who these people were or why they thought the paper was worth downloading.
Then the email started pouring in, and the phone started to ring. Game com panies wanted advice on developing in-game economies. Mainstream journal ists wanted interviews about these insane people paying real money for magic
INTRODUCTION 21
..
swords. Business and tech journalists wanted to see if the numbers really added
up and whether the person behind them was really an economist or just some
charlatan. Entrepreneurs of various stripes wanted ideas for making fortunes.
Academics in the arts and humanities wanted me to speak at conferences about
digital culture. Government agencies wanted info on how synthetic worlds could
be used for training and policy analysis. Intense game players wanted me to study
the economy of the game they really thought was cool. Students at all levels wanted to know how to get gaming into their research, or how to get jobs in the
gaming industry. Lawyers wondered about property issues. I learned that this
eJploration of a synthetic world was apparently a very serious thing indeed, to people operating in an incredibly wide spectrum of human affairs.
It was funny that the only people who did not call were other academic econ
omists. Years later, I did begin to have conversations with prestigious economists
that began "So you're Castronova! My graduate students have been citing this
thing about video games and I keep wondering, who the hell is this guy??" But in
the first months of my paper's journey around the Internet, it was clear that the
profession judged it to be hype, or some kind of fad, and steered away. So, as
I feared, my efforts to place "Virtual Worlds" at traditional journals were turned
down. "Not the right kind of paper for our journal," one editor said. "The subject
.is not ripe," said another. Commenting on a later paper on the same subject, a
reviewer for the prestigious American Economic Review opined: "Basically, these [results] tells us [sic] something about the distribution of tastes of a small group
of individuals who play virtual reality games. Personally, I'm much less interested
in the pricing of the characteristics of "virtual" things than of those that are real" (quotation marks in the original).8
·1 decided that since I had enough normal research to keep my career going,
there was no need to formally publish the EverQuest piece. It would be fine if it remained just a Working Paper. It certainly had had more impact in that form than any journal article I had ever written.
The experience left me at a crossroads in terms of my career, however. ,vidently, this was not a line of research that was going to be well received by the
hierarchy of academic economists. On the other hand, it was a line of research that seemed to contribute something tangible to the thinking and working of a
great many people. Now, according to one view of academic freedom, it is given
to academics so that we can explore things that need to be explored, regardless of the consequences; that's the duty that goes along with the benefit. I never
expected to be someone who actually had to rely on the academic freedom argu ment to make a decision about my career, but in the end, that's how it was. I had important people from many different areas urging me to pursue the study of this
22 I NT RO DUCT 10 N
topic in one direction or another. My paper had raised many more questions than
it a.nswered. I decided to keep working on some of these questions, and that's why
I am writing this book. But it is important to stress the moral of the story: No one had to be persuaded
that synthetic worlds were important, they made the case themselves. I just wrote
down a description of what was happening inside a video game, and how the
technology behind it was being considered by others for much more expansive
uses. The paper was never approved by a board of editors and still has not
appeared in print. It was just a document floating around the Internet, a free self
publish by an unknown economist from an obscure teaching college outside Los
Angeles. But its subject was powerful enough to stir up interest in places like the
New York Times, the Pentagon, and the grimy offices of graduate students and
game coders alike. I can't possibly take credit for generating all that interest, even
granting myself a megalomaniacally generous assessment of my own talent as a
writer. No. The paper got passed around because many people sense that some
thing really is happening, out there, on the other side of the screen.
An Overview of the Contents
The subject of the book is a generic "synthetic world;' by which I mean any
computer-generated physical space, represented graphically in three dimensions,
that can be experienced by many people at once. It makes no sense to list the spe cific games and worlds that fit in this category at the moment; this phenomenon
is moving so quickly that any list would be out of date by the time the book hit
the street. To give an idea, however, I take "synthetic world" to include all the
MMORPG worlds in the game industry. These are role-playing games about
dragons and spaceships, and are exemplified by the game EverQuest. I will also include multiuser social worlds, such as The Sims Online (Electronic Arts), that typically do not have an explicit gaming, combat, or competitive aspect. At times,
I will discuss multiplayer combat games such as Half-Life (Sierra), although play ers of these games cannot have the same kind of persistent presence as they do in MMORPGs and social worlds (for reasons to be discussed later). I will not
include such things as text-based chat rooms or MUDs (Multi-User Dungeons),
or online games such as online poker or online checkers; these technologies do not depend on a 3D, world-like physical interface. Of course, no single world suf ficiently describes the entire universe of worlds now emerging; therefore, the book will have to focus on what seem to be generic and persistent features of all
the worlds as a group.
INTRODUCTION 23
Just what is generic and persistent about synthetic worlds, and what is not, will
require some guesswork about future developments. For example, at the moment
it is fairly easy in many Internet communities for users to remain anonymous,
and thereby to be shielded from the consequences of their actions. I believe this
is a temporary situation. Human societies rely so much on reputa.tion for their
basic functioning that online anonymity seems unlikely to persist in any signifi
cant way. Similarly, there are a number of technological issues that affect life in
synthetic worlds at the moment, that are more likely to be solved rather than
accepted. Right now, for example, it is hard to get a mob of 50 or so people together
"at one time at one place online, because the required digital video processing often
becomes more than a contemporary system can handle. Nonetheless, I will not
talk much about the difficulty of forming armies or markets in synthetic worlds.
On the contrary, I will be assuming that armies and markets will be readily avail
able forms of social organization; they are so important for human collectivities
that the coders will undoubtedly find some kind of fix or workaround using the
computation resources to come (indeed, to some extent, they already have).
While assuming certain technological and social advances can be risky for a book
such as this, it is warranted in Some cases. A book written in 1920 about the
emerging film industry might have more or less safely assumed that both sound
and color would become the norm'eventually.
The book has three major parts. As mentioned above, the first part is devoted
to an overview of what synthetic worlds are, how they operate, and how they
interact with the world of Earth. Chapter 1 gives a description, based on my
own experiences in dozens of these games, of what it is like to spend time in a
current-generation MMORPG. In chapter 2 I'll give an overview of the people
who go to these places, their numbers, and why they make this choice. Chapter
3 sketches the technology behind these world simulations; here, I make some
more or less well-grounded predictions about the near-term technological
potential of these worlds. Chapter 4 describes the "institutions"-the patterns
of culture and behavior-that these places induce. Chapter 5 concludes the first
part by giving a brief overview of the industry that makes these worlds, its cor
porate structure and atmosphere, and the likely equilibrium state of the market as it evolves.
Part 2 then considers the potential effect of synthetic worlds with respect to a number of important issues. Chapter 6 describes many of the boundary-violating practices that have become common in MMORPGs, showing how fuzzy the line
between the game-space and real-space has already become. Chapters 7 to 11 then discuss some of the implications of these fuzzy boundaries for economics, politics, and security.
24 INTRODUCTION INTRODUCTION 25
Part 3 wraps up the book with two chapters, one an assessment of policy issues,
and another that attempts to make longer-run projections about the ultimate
meaning of this technology. Indeed, what are the right policies toward these new places? This is a difficult
question; we are not sure what these worlds will be, let alone what they should be.
People in different positions have different opinions. Those who own worlds and
want revenues from them have a certain set of goals in mind. Those who are heav
ily invested as users of a world will have a different set of goals. Users who have spent much time in one role in a world (as a warrior, a trader, a lover, or what
have you) wil1 not have the same idea of "ideal" policies as those who have spe
cialized in a different role. Not to mention those who have not entered the world
yet. And we can of course conceive of a common good here; there may be some
policies that are commendable as is, either because they offer the best balance of
conflicting interests, or because they are simply the right thing to do. While I would like to claim neutrality with respect to the various interests at play, that
is going to be impossible in practice. I am going to be arguing, at various points
in this book, that it's better to do things a certain way. When that happens, I wil1
be trying to side with the common good as much as possible. My conception of the common good is fairly simple: it's the colIective well
being of the users. And by "well-being," I do not mean a strictly utilitarian con
ception. The mere fact that one synthetic world sells better than any other is not, in my view, conclusive evidence that it is a better world than the others. It is
strong and persuasive evidence-to assert otherwise is elitist and tyrannical-but
it is not conclusive evidence, and the reason it is not conclusive involves the
nature of free will. Frankly, I fear the power of a simulated world to alter the
mind's conception of its own desires. Many people seem to become heavily
invested emotionally in the rather crude synthetic worlds we already have, and
some spend almost every waking hour there. Is that the result of a rational choice,
or rather of some form of chemical response treadmill similar to nicotine? Many
of these worlds are designed to utterly and completely enclose the user's con
sciousness in an envelope of the coder's design. What are the long-run implications of that practice? Quite a few social scien
tists, especially the economists who trained me, believe that tastes are fundamen tal. But no economist denies that, in the very long run, the social and physical
environment has a significant effect on what we like and don't like. Saharan nomads don't tolerate cold weather as well as the Inuit. With synthetic worlds,
we are talking about a technology that can dictate the physical environment (and
to a great extent, implicitly, the social environment) within which a mind ma tures, for months or years or decades. The preferences that economists and other
..
rational choice social scientists treat as fundamental and unchanging are very
much changeable here. That puts them in play, and forces us to think about the
Good and Bad of a world in a way that is not entirely dependent on the tastes of
the people in it.
There's nothing radical in this. For decades, economists such as Nobel
Laureate Gary Becker (1996) have theorized about the way preferences may
change. Libertarian theorist Robert Nozick (1974) has no trouble rejecting an
existence based on permanent immersion in a positive experience-producing
machine: such a life would be horrible, even if the immersed person said it was
wonderful. Because everything about a synthetic world can be revised by the
coding authority, the world needs to be Good as wel1 as popular. We cannot sim
ply assume that a world that commands the reverence of its people is necessar
ily the best world for them.
Ideally, the synthetic worlds we revere and feel most comfortable in will also be
Good worlds. We will like them, and they will enhance human dignity and well
being. That is my hope, anyway. The Earth is very nice, but there are experiences
we can imagine in our minds that we cannot have here. We poor Earthlings sim
ply cannot explore the surface of Pluto. We really cannot magical1y heal our best
friend's sickness with a touch of our hand. We cannot cast a spel1 and flyaway. We
cannot switch from male to female ~~d back again; we cannot become fat or thin as we wish; we cannot have the strength of a bear or the speed of a rabbit. We can
not directly observe the signing of the Magna Carta, Pickett's Charge, the remili tarization of the Rhineland, D-Day, the Defenestration of Prague, the severing
of Jenkin's Ear, or the invention of Silly Putty. And certainly, we cannot cast
immense firebal1s that immolate things that annoy us. Much as we might want to
do that, it remains, for the known future, something not possible for ordinary
humans like you and me. On Earth, anyway.
Looking beyond these simple joys of immersive, interactive entertainment,
however, it should be stressed that synthetic worlds may eventually make contri
butions to human well-being that will be judged as extraordinarily significant. We
live in a mobile world, and family ties often fall victim to the locational demands
of the marketplace. Synthetic worlds may become a place where families can
maintain their togetherness, even though the members live thousands of miles apart. Moreover, synthetic worlds may allow us to experience human social life in
an environment in which many characteristics of the body are no longer fixed endowments but have become chosen attributes. People entering a synthetic
world can have, in principle, any kind of body they desire. At a stroke, this feature of synthetic worlds removes from the social calculus al1 the unfortunate effects
that derive from the body. Imagine a world in which al1 aspects of our physical
26 INTRODUCTION
appearance were under our control, so that all variations in thin, heavy, tall, small.
dark. and light were all voluntary. We are poorer for being still unable to experi.
ence such a world. To sum up: synthetic worlds hold immense promise as places where humans
can enhance their Earth experiences with ones drawn directly from our glorious
collective history and imagination, all without bearing some of the burdens that
adhere to the Earth bodies we were born with. Ensuring that the technology serves such a marvelous end, rather than a less happy one, is the real challenge for
the next few decades. We will be less likely to meet that challenge the longer we
treat video games as mere child's play. Multiplayer online video games-avatar mediated communications systems, in essence-have become too fraught with
heady implications to be ignored any longer.