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[this article by Ryan Henson Creighton is re-posted from the Untold Entertainment blog, which is awesome]
When i circled the Social Game Developers Rant in my GDC schedule as a must-see session, i had no idea that i'd wind up improvising my own rant in front of the thousands of attendees. The story of how that happened is an interesting study in the attitudes of the game industry's top iconic figures, and how their influence flavours the way the rest of us see the social games space.

Image from last year's rant unceremoniously ganked from Jason Della Rocca's blog and used here without permission.
Respect is Earned
"No F@%$ucking Respect! Social Game Developers Rant Back" was held in one of the largest spaces at the Game Developers Conference: room 3014 in the West Hall, which seats roughly a billion people. The lunch time session promised informed, thought-provoking and entertaining rants from a line-up of the usual suspects:
- Ian Bogost, wry academic and creator of the Cow Clicker parody of social games
- Brenda Brathwaite, opinionated champion of (sometimes manipulatively) emotional games
- Trip Hawkins, a cool and collective business maven who happened to found Electronic Arts
- Chris Hecker, game graphics guru and indie advocate
- Steve Meretsky, best known to me for his work in interactive fiction back in the day
- Brian Reynolds, comparitively mild-mannered designer of some pioneering 4x games (and token Zynga panelist)
- Scott Jon Siegel, a Playdom designer who was billed as the panel's youngster, but who actually had more experience in social games than anyone else on the panel (a point he made abundantly clear in a loud, fast-paced, and HILARIOUS "bonus rant", my favourite moment in the whole session)
Floating in the background was Jason Della Rocca, former IGDA chief who, i should point out, knows me. Moderating the panel was the equal-parts energetic and abrasive Eric Zimmerman.
Pay to Play
As i entered the room, a CA (volunteer "conference associate" who checks badges and collects session feedback forms) was handing everyone a plastic coin from an orange bag. i was intrigued, and rubbed the ersatz booty between my fingers while the first delegates slowly trickled in. A slide on the A/V screen explained the point of the coins: the person who collected the most coins from the other players in the room by the halfway point of the session would be invited to the front to do a "guest rant" on social games.

i didn't really want to rant, dear readers ... but i DID want to win the game. i looked around the room at the hundred-or-so delegates and quickly calculated the amount of glad-handing and baby-kissing i'd have to do to amass enough coins to win. i knew i was up against the likes of Jane McGonigal, who despite being featured in two or three other GDC panels and talks that week AND a recent Colbert Report episode was nonetheless salivating over the chance to grab the mic yet again. i knew i was no match for Jane's celebrity, eagerness, and feminine wiles. What chance did a chubby nobody with lunch stuck in his teeth have against a Colbert alum?
Clearly, my only recourse was to use social engineering to win the social game.
The Game Was Afoot
i strode back to the entrance, to where the deliciously young and impressionable CA was handing out the coins. In an urgent voice, i said "Excuse me! Chris Hecker, one of the panelists, said he only really wants about half the room to get these coins. He sent me to get the bag and run it up to him at the front of the room."
Then, with no skepticism or suspicion, the CA pleasantly purred "sure," and handed me the bag.

He HANDED me the bag. The bag with all the coins. i had all the coins.
My heart racing, i rushed back to my seat at the other end of the cavernous room. i have never shoplifted before. i've never possessed an illicit substance. i'm known to my small segment of the industry as being unfailingly honest, often to my detriment. And here, through the uncharacteristic use of cunning and deceit, i had snatched the entire bag of plastic coins that GDC's social games industry powerhouses needed to run their social game. i tried to judge how best to cram the coins into my body cavity to hide them, and decided instead to furtively stuff the bag into my backpack before giddily awaiting the coming storm.
A Vote for Jane
Meanwhile, my impromptu nemesis Jane McGonigal had started campaigning for coins. At that time, she apparently didn't have a rant idea either - she, like me, just wanted the coins. She came closer to my row, and appealed to the crowd to give her their coins. i, mad with secret power, tried to look casual as i turned to face her in my seat and said "you're not gonna win."
"Why not?" she said, annoyed. This was Jane McGonigal, after all. Why wouldn't she win?
"Because i'm gonna win." It was a bold claim from a guy casually kicking back in his seat, surrounded by delegates who still had their coins. Deciding not to waste any more time on my cryptic claims (which were just my misguided attempt at good-natured smacktalk), she spun around to bring her coin campaign to the delegates in other rows.
The Jig Was Up
Meanwhile, at the front of the room, i heard either Jason or Eric snap "what do you mean someone stole the bag??" Oh crap. The doe-eyed CA, realizing he'd been duped, started scanning the rows of seats for me, patrolling them like a prison warden. i kept my head low and stared at my backpack on the floor - the very backpack that burned with ill-gotten gold. Soon, my pretties ... soon, it would all be mine.

i exhaled heavily when the rants finally started. Only about an eighth of the attendees had actually received coins (thanks to me), but Eric never let on. He cheerily explained the rules a few more times, never letting on what had happened, and then the ranting began. Panelists after panelist took to the mic to plead their cases on the validity of social games. At the halfway point, Eric announced that it was time to learn the results of the game: who in the room had collected the most coins from the other players?
A few murmurs of "i have five coins" and "i've got a couple" kicked things off. Jane McGonigal jumped up and proudly presented her handful. Eric seemed pleased that the winner was someone he knew and could trust not to be an ass on the mic.
And then i stood up.
On the chair.
And, holding the orange plastic bag aloft like Perseus presenting the head of Medusa, defiantly proclaimed "I HAVE THE ENTIRE BAG."

It was exactly like this, except that i had pants on. .... and i have a much bigger cock.
The room erupted. Some people laughed. Some jeered. Some guffawed. i was beaming, incredibly pleased with myself, like a toddler who's just learned to take off his own diaper. i fully expected Eric and the other panelists to smile along with me. Aha! We are social gamers, this was a social game, and somehow this delegate had managed to convince, through social contrivance, the impressionable CA to hand him the bag of coins.
It recalled the massive coup in the MMO Eve Online, in which social maneuvering led to a devastating take-over of one of the game's most powerful cabals.
Taking Crayons, Going Home
Through my squinty smile, i scanned the faces of Jason, Eric, and the panelists. It was not a pretty sight. They were scowling. Actually scowling. "You took the whole bag?" they said, disgusted.
"Well ... yeah!"
"That was against the rules, though." This last came soberly. "It was against the RULES." Zimmerman petulantly wagged a finger at the slide.
"No it wasn't. It was a social game, and i gamed it socially. The CA handed me the bag."
"B... but you have to get the coins from other players."
A hurried debate broke out about whether or not the CA was a player, and whether or not i had taken the coins "legally". My interpretation of the rules was that the player with the most coins wins, and i had the most coins. Someone else spoke up and said "We don't even know he has any coins, though. He's just holding a plastic bag. He might not have ANY coins."
The weight of the coin bag pressed heavily against my palm. i was irked. Not only did the bag contain coins, but it contained nearly ALL the coins - enough for the hundreds in attendance and then some. And they were MY coins. Not only was i denied my hero's welcome and a pomp-filled invite to the front of the room ... now i was being accused of CHEATING, and worse ... of not even having all the coins.
Someone in the audience shouted out "Who do you think you are - Zynga??" The crowd laughed.
"Show us," said someone on the panel. "Show us the coins you supposedly collected."
My fist tightened on the orange plastic bag. Through knitted eyebrows, i raised the bag over my head and showered myself in a cascade of gleaming, glittering plastic coins. It was like that scene from Flashdance, except with a chubby fully-dressed nerd instead of half-naked Jennifer Beals. When the torrent of winnings finally dripped dry, i casually tossed the empty bag on the coin-littered floor and held my hands out plaintively to appease the room.
Eric spun to address the panelists. "What do you think? Should we let this CHEATER do a guest rant?" To a man, every single one of the panelists gave me a thumbs down.
You Don't Know What You've Got Til It's McGonigal
i had been robbed. And Jane McGonigal, flaxen-haired upholder of the game creators' true intent, was named the winner.

McGOONNNNIGAAAAAALLL!!!!

During the session, a few Twitter friends rushed to my defense.
Two twists in this story came one after the other: Jane was invited up to speak, and brought two friends with her. i later learned that the organizers considered this a cheat as well. In another unexpected turn, Eric came up to me during the rants and mouthed "Do you still wanna say something?" i mouthed "Sure." Then he mouthed "Okay, but keep it to ten words or less. TEN WORDS. Ten." He held up ten fingers. "Ten."
"Sure - okay." i nodded. Had he actually said what i thought he'd said? He was going to let me do a rant? And he wanted me to keep it to ten words? What could i possibly say in ten words??

In Ten Words
Eric stayed true to his promise. Just before the final ranter, Ian Bogost, took to the stage, Eric announced that "in the spirit of mischief", he was going to let me do a SPECIAL MINI-RANT. The key word, of course, was "mini". i jogged up to the front and grabbed the mic, then turned around to face the enormous crowd.
i looked at Eric's eager face, at his pleading eyes, and remembered his rule: ten words or less. i felt the metal of the microphone that had been burned up, spat in, and blessed by the panelists before me. And as Eric made the hand-over-hand "hurry up" motion frantically from the front of the room, i decided to break another rule. i gripped the mic and said to myself "from my cold dead hand, Zimmerman." And then i proceeded to rant for as long as i damn well pleased.

Sing it, Jim.
Given the same opportunity, what would you say? What kind of rant could you improvise in front of a room stuffed with some of the most talented and well-known game developers in the business, and at GDC, the Mecca of your industry? The scheduled panelists had months to write and practice their rants. i had moments. Predictably, nothing i said was particularly Earth-shattering, but the point i tried to get across was this:
We like to brag about how the games industry brings in more money than the film industry, but as soon as someone like Zynga makes enough money to trigger our envy, we invent interpretations of the game rules to say it's not okay. Zynga is standing on a chair in the middle of a crowded room showering itself with coins, and instead of applauding them for their ingenuity, we're crying foul and pointing to the ways in which they've broken the "rules".
Meanwhile, we are breaking the very same rules: the addictive qualities of Facebook social games can be found throughout all our games. i talked about how i had skipped three real-world Hallowe'en parties to stay home and collect the spooky furniture set in Animal Crossing, and how i had spent an ungodly number of hours chasing after the legendary dogs in Pokemon Silver. In both cases, i had to decide on my own that these games had become a chore rather than a source of fun and entertainment, and i stopped playing them.

In the amount of time i spent playing Animal Crossing, i could have MADE Animal Crossing.
But this is a case of the pot calling the kettle addictive. Zynga is no more culpable for introducing addictive hooks in games than any other developer. At GDC, years before Zynga's triumph, the Casual Games Summit speakers all talked about how they needed to make their games more addictive. One of the most popular and profitable game portals for tweens, AddictingGames.com, makes absolutely no bones about it.
Jane McGonigal bent the rules to bring her buddies up to share her rant time, but her shenanigans were sanctioned by the industry guard. i, a relative newcomer, bent the rules by taking all the coins, was accused of cheating, and was barred entry into the club. Tellingly, for all the complaining we do about Zynga, their GDC session on developing games for 43-year-old women was standing room only.
For all the spectacle, for all the drama, and for making an enormous ass of myself, i don't regret a single moment of it. If anything, bucking convention and winning the coin game reminded me that the greatest gains are made by subversion, disruption, and going against the grain.
In short: break the rules, get the coins.
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"the greatest gains are made by subversion, disruption, and going against the grain."
Bravo sir, bravo.
The improv point made with this maneuver seemed to compliment Scott Jon Siegel's bonus rant, in that, with due respect to the panel of usual suspect veterans, this is a different game space. In a way, this demonstrated that social space defies conventional game design wisdom. It is not simply a collection of cut-and-dry game mechanics, it is inherently messy with human innovation. Maybe they weren't all scowling, but I can attest to the immediate unanimous thumbs down vote. This clearly took everyone by surprise; changed the game, and perhaps this is best considered a lesson for everyone in the room.
Also, pouring the coins over your head sounds pretty epic.
And lastly, if they hold one of these games next year, you may want to make alternate plans for the possibility that you get banned.
I thought that Ryan's mini-rant was superb and at least on par with those of the panelists' prepared presentations. His main points - that it's OK for games to be addictive and to be profitable, and that developers and players should stop hating others who make and play different genres of games - were important and well-delivered ideas.
Despite the fact that we were running over time, Jason and I were happy to give Ryan due reward for his out-of-the-box tactics. Game on, Ryan!
i was totally unaware there were two bags, but Raph says someone tried to steal the other one and failed? What's the story there?
- Ryan
After carefully reading the rules (you had to get the coins from another player), my neighbor took the bag from me then gave it back, to satisfy that clause. I could also have argued that while I did break the social contract of the game, it had been violated by the organizers first by failing to give me my one coin (in fact, I wouldn't have even thought of outright theft otherwise).
When it came time to count coins, I was unfortunately not loud enough, and sitting in the middle of a row made it hard to get to a mic before one of the CAs (Corvus Elrod) caught up with me. With a stern no-questions look, he demanded the coins back. Not wanting him to get in trouble, I relented, but if I were more insistent I should have gone to the mic to plead my case. I even had a mini-rant prepared, on the similarities between social games today and console game dev in 1981, and warning to watch out for signs of an impending crash. Ah well... it was a fun time anyway :)
- Ian Schreiber
I hope you know that while I had to do my job there, I personally found the whole thing pretty funny. I particularly liked the "bag swap" justification.
And had you been sitting closer to the stage, it likely would have turned out quite differently and you probably would have been up there sharing the mic with Ryan.
- Ryan
"Cheats" who work in the cracks between the rules of games are some of the best players to have in a game - they are the ones who are expressing themselves most clearly and defiantly in our game worlds, the ones who are "playing" with the most heart. Until they flip the board in the air and walk out - while they still respect the boundaries of play - they should be revered, not reviled.
Not that it doesn't have merit. ;)
The 'social play' would have been to somehow convince the other players/attendees to unwittingly give him their coins. Which was the point of the whole game with the coins.
All credit to Ryan: for stirring the natives and for having the cojones to follow his heart. Easy in hindsight though difficult in the moment given the weight of peers, power and pedants. Not exactly sure what you're leading to in your rant but goddam; ace in the hole motherfucker! True inspiration right there.
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It will probably take quite some effort, a considerable undo-ing to expand the palette of game experience beyond flow + dopamine. Adults raised all their lives on candy will probably want more, though I tend to think that given a sense of wonder and true adventurous-ness, these things can resonate with everybody's journey / everybody's fiction. Plough on.
-- Chuan
i didn't find anything. That's when i realized i was free to control the story and tell it how i saw fit. We'll see how the legend changes when actual video of the event surfaces in the GDC vault. :)
To make a comparison to today's social games, what if you stood up and said: "I'll give $10 dollars to anyone who gives me their coin."
I see this tactic in a lot of today's social games. Just buy your way to the top. If you are willing to spend a load of real money on credits/stars/coins/bunnytails, you can become King of the Game. Some players will do anything (including dumping their whole paychecks into the game) just to be the best player. This is good for the publisher (they make $$$) but it sucks for balanced game play ("free players" get their butts kicked and can not fight back and win).
I think I'll just make a "game" that whomever sends me the most money will be listed as the Best Player of the Game.
And what's worse, is that every 3-years they just update the rosters.
Not sure why people keep buying into it, but it sure as hell is popular.
-- Chuan
Not even all gamers think what he did was appropriate--go figure.
The showering of coins upon your own head was certainly in keeping with the spirit of the entire event, and you added to the overal energy of the room. Glad that Eric & Jason capitulated and gave you the time. You earned it.
[Like no one on that panel ever exploited a gap in a game's rules. Pfft!]
Social games earn revenue from advertising and player enhancements, which are themselves generally seen as forms of cheating in either greater society or more traditional games. The mob who had developed these games were frustrated and angry that their colleagues had brushed them aside.
And, yet, Ryan was reportedly held in contempt by a mob who had done as he did. Many of the panelists had an even deeper history of breaking the rules as entrepreneurs. In this way, I was reminded of the 2008 controversy about California Proposition 8 where black voters showed extreme intolerance toward gays who are/were struggling for their own civil rights.
Regardless of whether the "negative consternation" was exaggerated, I think Ryan made a fair point through his actions and perhaps his own rant that those who swim against the tide should be careful to not let others drown.
- The team captain was asked to come out into the hall to watch the teachers build
- Then they would return to their teams.
- The captain was not allowed to help in construction, but could only guide the team verbally.
- The most accurate reproduction won.
I was not a captain, but when the captains were called out to follow the teachers, I followed too. No one said anything (though it seemed a few people noticed two people following from our table, and were a little confused maybe). We returned and were able to build a perfectly matching structure in half the allowed time, no one else came close.
Calls of cheating ensued. The teachers intervened and declared us the winner, pointing out there was no rule against the construction workers also following out into the hall. The exercise was carefully constructed to teach you to think around the rules ... there are all sorts of non-obvious choices that are perfectly legal and will gain big advantage, if you look at things carefully.
A bit lame of the organizers not to recognize this and crown Ryan the winner.
And if anything, game designers should enjoy someone "breaking" their carefully designed rules--they can make better ones in the future. I'm glad they let this guy go up and speak.
Can I suggest a different disguise for each future GDC you attend? And a nom de plume if you ever want to collaborate with Jane McGonigal?
Or you could become as big as Zynga, of course - that would probably make most people put their grudges aside and want to be your friend!
Having run a few panels and such at my 9-5 job, I also hate it when people abuse the kindness people give them, like bringing up two additional speakers to "add" to their own. I wouldn't call it cheating as much as it is just being rude and selfish. Especially if said person already had time at the mic in another session.
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We should be applauding people who make a lot of money by any means necessary? No thanks and if you think this is about envy then maybe you're just projecting your own feelings upon everyone else. Not everyone is driven by a need to make millions of dollars. Not everyone creates games because they want to capture the money.
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Meanwhile, we are breaking the very same rules: the addictive qualities of Facebook social games can be found throughout all our games. i talked about how i had skipped three real-world Hallowe'en parties to stay home and collect the spooky furniture set in Animal Crossing, and how i had spent an ungodly number of hours chasing after the legendary dogs in Pokemon Silver. In both cases, i had to decide on my own that these games had become a chore rather than a source of fun and entertainment, and i stopped playing them.
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We hear this sort of "traditional games are not without sin so that camp shouldn't be casting stones against 'social games'" argument all the time. It's a false argument. Nobody ever claimed all games are good/positive and that goes for "social games" as well.
However, I do agree with you that the majority's negative view toward your actions during the panel is very similar to the negative view some people have towards social games but it has nothing to do with jealousy. It has to do with a sense that you're actions were irresponsible, unethical and immoral.
You can claim that you didn't commit any crimes or break and laws, rules or regulations but in the end everyone else involved will look at you and think "there's a guy who wants to win too much and has lost sight of what's really important." (Yes I do realize you were pulling a prank and trying to demonstrate a point at the same time. But were it not a joke and say a BMW was the prize...)
Some of these social games have a very slash and burn feel to them.
Nice blog, by the way.
The difference, I think, is that traditional games do not bypass the natural effort-reward loop that is a kind of governor protecting against overall addictiveness. In the real world, most rewards require some kind of effort to achieve, like the endorphin rush from exercising (the fact that some drugs do not is precisely what makes them so dangerously addictive). Traditional games are like this too ... yes there are addictive techniques, but I still have to achieve something in the game, make an effort - slay the troll or win the race or whatever - to get that payout.
Free to play games can be the same. But others - a lot of them - you only get the Pavlovian rewards by paying (or spamming your friends, which amounts to the same thing). You can pay again immediately to get the next reward. There's no effort or action required, no gameplay to get the reward. This circumvention of the natural effort -> reward loop increases the risk of harmful addiction (clinically defined addiction I mean, where the subject experiences measurable harm in multiple spheres of their life). Smurf Village seems to me an example of such a game (and to no surprise, is the game that is causing the FTC to now investigate our industry).
If players can just pay over and over in your game to directly access rewards, I would argue that you are encouraging real, clinically-defined addiction. As evidence witness the higher addiction rates (and greater regulation to combat addiction) in Asian countries where free-to-play has been around a lot longer. I'm not against social games, nor free to play games - I'm working on one myself. I am advocating for responsible game development that acknowledges the increased risk of addiction in the free-to-play business model and does what it can to mitigate the risk. I would rather we self regulate than have the FTC investigating us because a kid racked up a $1,400 bill in Smurf Village.
These can be tonge in cheek comments, but... The organizers should have admitted that they did not made a very good game in the end of it all... they were supported by preconceived notions because they were talking aobut "social games", but did not take care of actually designing the game system and rules that could have prevented of what could have happened (not just this specific case, which was awesome... and in fact healthy that happened in my humble opinion).
It may sound foolish... but GDC is a game making conference from "top notch" game makers. Everybody take note here. There is still so much to learn...
And I can only but agree, where was the dude that gave you "premium coins" in exchange for real cash?