Culture Clash

(November 2005)

Old Soldiers

You never buy a “used” car at a dealer. You buy a “certified pre-owned” car, which is sort of like Thief's Garrett describing himself as a “property reallocation engineer.” Used has a negative connotation to consumers – it implies that the product is shabby and worn out. Somehow you're less likely to wonder what went on in the back seat of a pre-owned vehicle rather than a used one. Meanwhile, used games are just as good as new ones in most consumers' eyes.

Hand-me-down games have been around since the industry was in cartridges. The trade went on quietly, unharassed, for many years. Then Best Buy decreed that it wanted in on the action and began exploring used game sales in its stores. The potential market here is huge; if most gamers' basements are like mine, we're all well on our way to buying private islands with the money we'll make from trade-ins. So it comes as no surprise that the industry, so tolerant of secondhand games when it was a niche, is squawking now that the superstores are getting involved.

Epic's Mark Rein has been outspoken in this, and his indignation is shared by many. While some consumers may, ah, disagree with him, his heart is in the right place. Mark makes some very strong points in his arguments. Games are an act of creation, and their creators deserve recompense and recognition. Moreover, he notes that selling used games is fine, but no one would dare sell used copies of Office or Photoshop. Why are games sloppy-seconded when other software isn't? Is it fear of EULAs that stay retailers' hands, or hypocrisy?

As the bohemothization of retailers continues – and the enormous profit margins in used games become more apparent – it seems likely that the used game market will only grow. This must be incredibly frustrating to developers who work so hard and then watch their product get hockey-pucked around, skidding from player to player. Yet at the same time, authors receive no royalties from used bookstores, musicians none from secondhand record shops, Hollywood none from the “used” bin at Blockbuster. There are few compelling reasons why the games industry should be treated differently.

And that's the chief argument of those who favor used game sales. Their ideology states that sale of used games doesn't represent a monetary loss for the industry, it's just a missed opportunity for gain. A royalty was paid for the game when it was sold as new. Once it's someone's property, they're free to do whatever they like with it, including sell it to someone else. There is no precedent for ongoing royalties once a product has left its shrink wrap. Heck, used video games may even help fight crime.

Aside from an unspoken agreement not to go RIAA-ing twelve year olds who buy used copies of Ico , the industry hasn't yet reached a consensus on how to – or even if it should – combat the problem. The chances of developers or publishers inking any kind of royalty deal for used game sales are essentially zero. The used market is here to stay. And if the industry can't stop it, it'll either have to come up with a profit-making alternative or bite its tongue and deal.

But alternatives are there, if you look hard enough. The GameTaps of the world are moving into high gear, as publishers begin to recognize the frank idiocy of leaving old IP to languish rather than releasing it for all to play. In exchange, some money gets back into the industry, if not directly into the hands of developers. Games seldom have more than six months to make money, then they're bargain bin fodder. Six months after that they're in the used section. There's something to be said for making them available to a gigantic audience – especially an audience that never intended to purchase the game and would never have seen it otherwise.

There's also Steam, and whatever other digital distribution models are currently in development. There's an easy way to positively guarantee that your game will never be sold used: don't release it at retail. That's no longer the kiss of market-share death it once was. Once digital distribution channels own a large percentage of sales, many developers may choose to do exactly that. If game distribution goes all-digital, the issue of used games becomes moot.

Also, developers could explore ways of making money from something other than sales. In-game advertising is growing by leaps and bounds, and studies strongly imply that it's working. Most gamers wouldn't mind a little product placement, so long as it's not allowed to run amok. This is a way that developers could bring in extra dollars and offset the perceived loss associated with used game sales. As online economies grow, there will be increased opportunity for developers to profit from real-world sales of virtual objects. There are many such potential-profit alternatives out there to those concerned about revenue loss from used game sales.

The other alternative, of course, is to try and crush the practice. Requiring product subscriptions or denying support to gamers who buy secondhand might work, but it's obnoxious and self-defeating. To be sure, the game industry is constantly doing things that are obnoxious and self-defeating; one need look no farther than Bully and StarForce copy protection for proof of that. So we can't rule out this possibility altogether, but it seems unlikely – and almost certainly hopeless.

Debating this issue is fun but, frankly, irrelevant. Short of legislation, no power on earth will stop the rise of used game sales. And in most countries video game legislation isn't generally to the industry's benefit. So while the growth of the certified pre-owned game market may drive developers to explore other options, in the end they'll all have to coexist.